Unwieldy (Fantasy & Hammers)

[Sarius]

Chapter 60: Mecca

The journey of a thousand steps always starts with one, as someone famous probably said back on Earth. And it was as true as an overly vague saying could ever be. All three of us knew that the beginning would be rough, our bodies and minds used to the comfort of living in one place, perhaps with the exception of Alena who had travelled numerous times—though never so independent from her father.

It was a learning experience for all of us. Mayer had tried to instil a sense of what we'd face with the subjugation quest we'd been sent on, but as soon as it was no longer just a training exercise, things changed rapidly. Suddenly many things that had been a given before were now scarce and potentially in risk of depletion.

We had a large quantity of food, Rethi's horse—Darksteel—and Alena's horse—Lily—were both capable of carrying a decent amount of weight each, even if a lot of the weight was other essentials and the food for the horses. The real upside was that I could easily carry an inordinate amount of weight. It had actually become more about what bags I could use to carry as much weight as possible.

In the end, there really weren't enough supplies to come close to reaching my limits. If I was capable of lifting my hammer and doing anything at all with it, the angles perpetually at my mechanical detriment, I could easily support far more than its weight in bags and supplies.

So, in practice, we were set for quite a while and with how we were likely to be travelling through other towns who have an incentive to buy and sell to travellers and merchants—it was almost impossible that we would end up with absolutely no supplies.

Even if we did end up with no supplies, I can't say that it'd be all that difficult to hunt or forage for food. I don't even have to eat, as far as I can tell.

Thus, we continued on without all that much worry, besides that strange mixture of both wonder and excitement with a healthy anxiousness. The first town was barely two days of travel along that path and we didn't even bother to stop. Aside for buying treats for the horses and ourselves, sharing some of our newfound wealth.

And newfound it was. We hadn't packed any overt amount of wealth ourselves, content to just use what we had silently accrued over the months we had been receiving pocket money from Mayer. It had been a sizable amount of money, enough to buy a house back in that little nameless town, probably in excess even still.

It was on our second day—when we passed through the neighbouring town and had gone to buy simple bits and pieces that caught the eye—that we had found the mysterious pouch of money at the bottom of Rethi's bag. A pouch put it to shame, really, it was more of a small bag than anything. It, of course was filled with glittering iron, bronze, silver, and gold.

The math on the money here was simple and without frills, easy enough to translate with a second's thought. It was probably engineered that way, mainly created to be used by a populace that don't necessarily have a comprehensive grasp on even simple math, let alone the complexity that comes with a lot of economics.

It starts with hum; which is just a single unit, then smah; which is ten, shim; which is twenty-five, and then ruhk; which is fifty units. There are four levels of currency that are commonly used, iron, bronze, silver, and gold. I had no doubt that there were more levels of currency, but they hardly mattered. Each one-hundred units of the lower material currency is worth one of the material directly superior to it.

So, in a single glance inside that small bag, I counted the gold pieces and racked up somewhere between eighty and one-hundred golden hum total. That was already a monstrous amount of money, far more than I could possibly conceive the use of. Enough to easily start a life somewhere as a rich benefactor to a small village, much like Mayer himself.

Kicker was, that each of us received such a bag, sitting at the near bottom of our packs, cleverly hidden and disguised amongst other supplies and components. I think all of us had half a mind to turn on our heel and march all the way back to Mayer's home, just to shove the ridiculous amount of money we were gifted with right back in his face.

Though we didn't, obviously. None of us were naive enough to believe that—with the goals we were working towards—we wouldn't find a use for this money, and that it wouldn't find a way to evaporate out of our pockets if we weren't careful. All of us were powerful, and we all had the distinct capability to make an inordinate amount of money on short notice, but not this much money.

Even Alena, who had been kept in the dark as to what Rethi and I were and what we were seeking to do—to the vocal discontent of her boyfriend—knew that this money would come in dire need. Sooner rather than later, more than likely.

It was the third or fourth day that we told Alena the truth. That I was a Demigod; possibly the closest thing to an actual God upon Virsdis or Orisis, and that Rethi was a Divine warrior; the lineage of which holds a warrior so ancient that he had become legend and Mayer Renue himself.

There had been surprise, and even some anger—mostly at the idea that we hadn't trusted her with this information sooner. But when we told her about the Champions, where I had actually come from and the war that would once again bring tragedy to the world like it had only seventy years prior, her feelings on the matter mellowed considerably.

Surprisingly, she took it well. Past the initial surprise, then doubt—which was quickly allayed by proof of our links to the Divine—she quickly became another valuable source of advice and just another sharp mind to help our cause.

When I looked inside her emotions, mostly in an attempt to make sure that she was actually okay, I found that she was stalwart. That strength I had seen bloom in front of my eyes the day before was already being put to use. It was admirable, she had been so afraid of herself, and would have no doubt been just as afraid of Rethi and myself—if she had known what we truly are.

Now, she accepted the reality bending information with grace. It was no doubt helped by the fact that we had never expressly lied to her about any information, just withheld. Within her mind, I could just about hear the puzzle pieces snap together; situations that had taken place right in front of her now had the correct context, and all of them fit snugly into the larger picture.

It felt great to have Alena brought into the fold. She may be quick to anger, easily frustrated and more, but her mind was sharp. From an early age she had been taught with the express purpose to partake in the highest echelons of medical knowledge and practice. You'd be surprised just how much understanding that provided her with.

Excellent mathematical skills, critical thinking, creative thinking, and many skills to complement those highly developed mindsets. If I were to be honest, Alena was likely a good deal more intelligent—or at least more knowledgeable—than myself. If she had been exposed to the resources that I had available to me back on Earth? I had no contest.

Another benefit to bringing Alena into the fold; Rethi and I could go much harder in sparring. To the point where Rethi could use Hindle and I could use my own Soul Weapon without fear of immediate death.

Of course, we weren't so gung-ho that we'd actually use the Divine aspects to our weapons. Rethi could probably kill me if he managed to hit me with everything he had. Though, he had explained what he'd need to do to pull it off, and it was essentially only something that would ever hit someone who was legitimately frozen for half a minute or more.

My own hammer was much riskier to put in play. While Rethi could probably shrug off most injuries, even grievous ones, it was still possible to kill him by non-Divine means. Though I'd have to mulch his brain or do a comparable amount of damage.

It all came down to me just being careful, which I already was. The extra care would diminish the benefits I'd receive from being able to go all out, like Rethi was able to. But it would only help Rethi's own skill and power grow—hopefully to where he is capable of shrugging off mortal wounds.

Through this, Alena's growth soared as well. As the days passed and Rethi and I continued to accrue more and more obscure injuries, Alena only became more adept with repairing them. She still failed a good portion of the time, hence why I would be the test subject for anything potentially risky and Rethi would only receive healing when the risk was very low, or she had already figured it out on me.

On more than a few occasions she'd had the chance to repair significant brain injuries on me. Most of which failed, one even going so poorly that the sudden explosive growth of tissue forced my eyes out of their sockets and sending me unconscious. I was awake and conscious only seconds later, entirely fine with two teenagers looking at me with thoroughly disturbed expressions. Which I found particularly rich, coming from Rethi—the boy who had no hesitations in going for my eyes and testicles at any chance.

Regardless of the fanfare, Alena was able to make it clear that healing brains was exceptionally difficult. She wasn't able to definitively explain why, even after multiple attempts—but it was at least mostly self-explanatory. It was the brain, an organ so complex that even Earth civilisations could only do the scientific equivalent of banging two rocks together and seeing what happened. The brain is as much a mystery to Earth's modern science as it seemed to be for Alena, with the distinction that Alena had already successfully repaired my brain after a concussion.

Just one more thing to add to the list of what Alena could potentially do.

After the establishment of our routine, the days began to blur together, consisting mostly of walking or training—or both. Most of the scenery remained unchanged, and the only excitement consisted of the new town we walked through about every other day to a week.

The travel had been wearing holes in my two companions. Even their horses looks like they desperately needed a break. Both companions, their horses included, were too stubborn to say that they wanted nothing more than to rest within a town for a day or two, after what had become a few weeks of pure travel.

So, when I saw the beginnings of a town start to surround the road, I had already decided we were going to say the night, at least. When that very same road slowly became more and more maintained, rather than the beaten and pothole filled mess it had been for the duration of our trip—even I began to get excited.

Around us, buildings went from ramshackle homes—much like those you could find in our little old town—to homes built by clearly experienced and funded tradesmen. As we progressed, the houses lost some of their individuality, built instead to home needy families. To keep them warm when the coldest nights come out to hunt for the weakest prey they can find.

The standard of living only further increased from there, the homes instead becoming about light amounts of comfort—then comfort in excess. As we moved it became clear that this wasn't town, but a city. The houses and stores that lined the main streets became a contest of the finest craftsmanship, of excess comfort in excess. Each storefront specifically designed to inspire wonder and the need to pull out your wallet.

At this point I was just amazed at the stark difference between the road we had been walking on and the sudden appearance of a city that—by all means—was a bit of a mecca for trade and services.

As we finally made it to the centre of the city, after thirty minutes of walking, we found the centre of it all. It was shaped like a cross, two roads intersecting, surrounded by a large open area, lined with stores hawking their best wares. In the bulk of the open space hundreds of street stalls were set up, selling anything from food to clothing. As all three of us slowly turned and stared wide-eyed at the sights—now feeling thoroughly like country bumpkins—I let out a wry chuckle.

"Well, I can't say that any of these places are quite as nice as Mayer's home…" which was truthful, in an odd was. The old warrior's home was meticulously crafted for what was likely an exorbitant fee. The stores that surrounded the town-square-come-market certainly gave the man's home a run for its money, but they just weren't quite on the same level.

"But…" I began slowly, hooking the attention of my companions, "How do you guys feel about sticking around here for a couple of days, hey?" My sly words were met with the faces of two very happy teenagers.


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 61: Burning Eyes

Navigating the city was easier than I thought it would be, most of the relevant stores and services were placed on the main road, as close to the town square as they could possibly manage. This made it easy for the tourist or travelling crowd to find places to spend money.

There was everything from restaurants to equipment stores, to bookstores to brothels. One hundred and one different ways to spend your hard-earned currency, all in one place. It was admirable, to see the clear application of marketing and economic strategies that were all too common in modern day Earth. Though, I was starting to see the cracks in the veneer the longer I stayed here.

Just because the residents of this city—which was inventively named Crossroads—made copious amounts of money from those who bought and sold at their stores and businesses, it didn't necessarily mean that the residents liked them. With my natural empathy, it was too obvious. The sheer distaste from a smiling store attendant was enough to make me warier of the darker flipside to Crossroads.

It became clear that only those who knew what they were doing, or were residents themselves, dared to slip into the side streets—away from the view of the crowds. I myself took a few glances down the side streets and found it to be a packed maze of small buildings and branching paths.

Rethi and Alena were both smart cookies, so they caught on just as fast. My best guess would be a significant criminal element to this city, possibly more than just significant. Of course, while we likely agreed, we weren't stupid enough to talk about it out loud in the street. The walls had ears, and possibly a few eyes, after all.

The day was getting into its later hours, and any enthusiasm that the teenagers might have had to wander the stalls and stores was quashed by their overwhelming exhaustion. Rethi, while technically far more hardy and possibly capable of going sleepless like myself, wasn't quite past being exhausted yet.

Thinking back to my first few days of being a Champion, my body was still acting as if it didn't have infinite energy and even having muscle pain. I can't be sure if I just hadn't boosted my Might to the level I needed to be sleepless, but there was a significant likelihood that my body just reacted that way on instinct rather than actual need. It didn't seem like any type of power simply gave your new spec sheet to your brain, and it accepted it for its new reality. To take full advantage, you had to push yourself with the new powers over and over until your brain rewires what needs rewiring to conform with reality.

Oh well, that was something that he could work on later. This journey isn't going to be ending any time soon.

As the sun was slowly covered by the orbiting planet, its own night sky visible facing towards us, I directed us towards a hotel tavern that we had passed an hour ago as we wandered. It was down the western main road of Crossroads, the one we had arrived from was the southern road. This was all from a compass decoration sitting in the centre of the town centre, obscured slightly by various stalls.

The reason I was taking us to this particular establishment, was because I had been tracking the emotional states of those around us, and within the buildings adjacent to us at all times during our wandering. This tavern was one of the only ones to have employees, and presumably owners, that seemed fine with their customer base. If not happy, then neutral to them at least. We tied Darksteel and Lily up in the tavern's stables, a bit of a luxury in comparison to other taverns that you'd have to pay a stable down the street to take care of the horses. We packed our bags into a provided rudimentary lockbox, though we'd likely bring the bags into our rooms for the extra safety.

As I walked up to the door of the Skinned Lizard, and pushed open its doors, I found myself surprised. Something that had been of note in our wandering of the main roads was the distinct lack of non-human peoples. Any that may have been another race were either passably human, or their forms were hidden underneath their cloaks.

However, in the Skinned Lizard, it seemed like the cloaks were off. Almost every single person inside were of a different race than human. There were still a few humans, of course, but this seemed like it was the sort of place that those of a different race gravitated towards. The most prevalent race inside the Skinned Lizards was… well, lizards. The exact name of their race isn't something I think I've ever been told, and you couldn't pay me to call them lizards.

Many of them were humongous, only a little taller than humans on average, but were much wider. Their shoulders were significantly wider than what seemed natural to my own limited conception of biological structure. Each and every lizardfolk—which is my tentative name for the race—was muscled in some way or another, either the wiry, sleek muscle you see in rock climbers, or the powerful, large muscles of a strongman.

The variance from person to person was significant, though it seemed that the average is the large and muscular variation. Their facial structure differed wildly between variations as well. The large, muscular variation has a thick and wide, scaled neck leading to a similarly wide and squat face, tapering into a short snout. I had no doubt that inside their mouths they house a set of menacing teeth, maybe even reminiscent of crocodilians. The other variation I could see are softer looking, more rounded and slimmer faces that seem less harsh and inherently predatory with a distinct lack of defined scales in place of smooth, shiny skin.

All while I meandered in my mind, I found myself and the suddenly extremely awake teens a table in a quieter part of the large dining room. Both of my companions were nervous, their eyes dancing from person to person. Both of them, Alena included, were effectively being exposed to an entirely different environment, including the new races. Alena emotionally registered as every race in this building being new to her, aside from the humans, which I found to be a little surprising. Maybe if you just never go looking you won't find them?

I observed a reptilian waitress—of the significantly friendlier looking variant—moving herself from table to table. She greeted guests in a light tone with little depth to the voice, and with a slight accent that I couldn't place amongst the other vocal differences. She took orders and moved along, a large reptilian man bringing out food and drinks to the tables moments later.

"Uh, Master Max?" Rethi whispered under his breath catching my attention, and the attention of a few others with exceptional hearing, "Are you sure this place is for… us?" He asked anxiously. I cringed a little inside, and so did those that overheard the light whisper. It wasn't as if the boy was being malicious, I think a part of the reason for his nervousness was that we were encroaching on another's territory.

"I don't think it is a place created just for us, Rethi." I began consolingly in a normal tone of voice, catching the attention of the same listeners, "It's a created space for any who feel uncomfortable in places that would be made for just us." I paused, letting the two teens in front of me settle their nerves. I laughed lightly at the matching contemplation on the faces of the couple.

"We are clearly an other to those that live and work in Crossroads, so are we not more at home here? With those who find themselves as others themselves?" I let my gaze wander to the diverse crowd, the lizardfolk being only the largest majority. The few other races that I could see were distinctly more human, two men who were easily over eight feet, a man who had moss covering much of his exposed skin, drinking with a woman with sharp features and lightly tinted red skin.

"Why thank you for the lovely words, there 'Master' Max." My eyes turned back to the lizardfolk waitress I had seen busying herself earlier, though her voice held some apprehension for my 'title'. I grinned towards her soft and colourful features, almost reminiscent of a cute gecko. Her shiny skin was a vibrant blue with large, dark eyes protruding from her streamlined head. Rethi's face immediately burned red with embarrassment, realising that if this waitress had heard him that more had likely overheard too. The waitress did the best approximation of a grin on her reptilian features, careful to not display her teeth.

"Ah, well—I try." I shot her another grin, awarding me with some amusement in her emotions, "If you don't mind, may I ask the name you use for your race? We come from a small road town south of here. Not much diversity to speak of, you see." Her dark eyes filled with some understanding, even as she let out a constrained sounding laugh. I couldn't quite tell if that was just how her laughs sounded, or if she was doing so consciously.

"I see, it isn't often that travellers come from the south road. As for our name, we are generally referred to as Reptilia, though it is a wide net cast for many fish." Her speech was very consistent, holding a distinct, predictable rhythm. Her high-pitched voice—though not grating—would likely be difficult to hear if the clamour of the dining floor were any louder.

"Interesting!" I said, trying to walk the line between being politely interested and too interested, "Are there specific names for the race of each Reptilia?" She seemed a little surprised that I wanted to know more and seemed happy to comply with my interest.

"Indeed, those reminiscent of myself are named Gek, or formally Gekkonidae. We are the second most populous Reptilia in Crossroads. The foremost representatives of Reptilia in Crossroads are from the Tiliqua tribes west of here, however they are part of the larger Scincidae race." I felt my mind turn over with the new information, my companions doing the same. It seems like the classifications the Reptilia used amongst their own 'race' was quite stringent, and maybe even tribal in nature. An airy chuckle from the Gek woman later, and my mind was brought back to the present.

"Anyway," I said, waving myself and the others from out stupors, "what do you suggest we eat?" I received a thinly pulled from the woman's already non-existent lips.

"Please don't order any of the Reptilia 'cuisine'." I could hear the air-quotes in her voice, before she waggled her strangely ridged fingers, "It could hardly be called that and is frankly gross to most Reptilia. The only reason we still serve it is because of Tek." I started with surprise of the light disgust in the woman's voice, and the much more powerful emotion to accompany it. She didn't dislike this Tek person, but she was perturbed by the food he ate. Interesting how much you could pull with just some simple empathic senses.

"Alright then, how about a decent steak?" Steak was a commodity in Mayer's household, the man too frugal in his day-to-day for his own good. Or he just didn't like steak, I guess.

"Good choice!" The Gek waitress said happily, her emotional state indicating that I chose what was at least her favourite. She asked how big a cut I wanted and how I wanted it done. Rethi just ordered the same as me out of instinct, and Alena ended up ordering a salad of some sort. Just as the Gek woman turned to leave, telling us that the food would be to our table in a little while, I called after her gently.

"What's your name by the way, miss?" I asked, keeping my voice quieter than I normal would if I were calling after someone, but many in this part of the dining floor appreciated quietness, probably due to their sensitive hearing. She turned and gave me a small quirk of the lips in the middle of her snout, what I could only assume was a smirk.

"Gehne." She said, then quickly walked away towards customers that had been waiting patiently while we had absorbed a few minutes of her time. I looked to the sandy blonde headed boy and his dark-haired girlfriend, both of them noticeably calmer now. All they needed was a little reassurance and a nice interaction and they were now letting their eyes dance from person to person with a little bit of wonder sitting snugly in their minds.

The lovely gentleman who brought our order over, along with complementary drinks from Gehne, talked with us for a little while. His name was Tenra, of one of the Tiliqua tribes. Apparently, many from the Tiliqua tribes moved into Crossroads when they started to go into full tribe warfare.

It was good information to know, though I'm not sure it'll necessarily come in useful. The large Tiliquan man eventually ran off once a much deeper voice with the same Tiliquan hiss called from the other side of the room. We mostly ate in silence, the two teens having rekindled their exhaustion, the drawing ever closer to its end. At least the food was good, exceptionally so actually. The meat was cooked perfectly and even though I couldn't tell what animal it had come from, it was tender and flavourful.

After dinner was finished, I waved Gehne over and paid her handsomely for the food and the room I booked immediately after. Apparently, many of the customers were local, so the rooms were open and cheap. Obviously I tipped her, though it didn't seem like it was a common gesture and she tried to decline, but I wouldn't accept the money back.

What else would I do with such an insane amount of money on my hands?

I paid for a room of my own, and two for the teenagers, knowing full well that they'd only use one. I'd use my own room for my bags, which I had hauled up to my room all in one trip, thoroughly impressing the extremely tall men in the corner of the room. By this time Rethi and Alena were already sleeping together in their own room, exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as they touched a soft pillow.

With my two companions safely tucked away in bed, I left behind my bags in my room and made my way out of the tavern, wrapping myself in a dark and heavy cloak perfect for skulking around shady side streets in the dark of night.

As I walked downstairs, many of the tavern's patrons had left for the night, leaving the dining room mostly barren. Making my way towards the door, I passed by Gehne who was wiping down the tables as the night drew to a close for the tavern. I made sure to give the Gek woman a friendly nod as I strode forward, opening the door to the cool night air.

"Master Max," she said, no apprehension in the title she had overheard Rethi using.

"Just Max, or Maximillian if you absolutely have to." I smiled, feeling a little flicker of warmth enter my eyes under the shade of my hood. Her scaly brow knitted slightly, but she nodded gently.

"Max, then. I have to warn you that the streets at night… aren't safe. Especially nowhere you would go with a cloak like that." I could see a healthy dose of suspicion in her, maybe a slight change in opinion from me being a totally harmless person to something a little more… nuanced. I just smiled deeply at the woman, the flicker of warmth from the nearby fireplace brought a toasty, comfortable heat to the room, brightening it just enough for the Gekkonidae's sensitive eyes to notice the change.

"Thank you for the warning Miss Gehne. But I think I'll be quite safe on my outing." I took a step outside, turning back to see her standing there, the cloth she'd been using to wipe the table now hanging limply from the ridges of one finger. Her mouth was open wide, revealing the small teeth that had been hiding just behind her lips, the large cavity of her mouth almost intimidating if it weren't so amusing.

"Goodnight, Miss Gehne." I said as the door closed, and I disappeared into the shadows of the streets—still feeling the shock she'd experienced when she saw my burning eyes.


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 62: Small Step

You know, skulking around in the dark would be a whole lot easier if I didn't show off to the waitress—making my eyes quite literally glow in the dark.

The fire had faded mostly, but it still managed to catch the eye of one or two who travelled the main streets in this late hour. The Gek woman, Gehne, had been right, of course—even the main streets weren't safe at night. I saw more than a few men get the contents of their pockets taken from them, the subjects of the attacks to belligerently drunk that they didn't even notice. As much as I fancied myself the virtuous hero, I turned a blind eye for the moment. Not only were the victims all relatively wealthy travellers, but their coin poches were already woefully empty by the time that the thieves and pick pockets got their hands on them.

Seems like the businesses around here were a little… brutal on the customer's wallets. My rationalisation for not bonking every thief on their head was pretty simple; if they had money to waste or were wasting money at establishments like the ones they were leaving, then I can't say that I was all that inclined to protect their wallets.

I felt my eyes slowly leach the warmth that I'd accrued in the Skinned Lizard. When I had called for the power—to give her a little show—I had only intended for a small amount of the flame to come to my eyes, but it seems like my domain itself had ideas about that. I couldn't tell just yet, but my domain clearly feels stronger arounds places of great hearth. Maybe that was also part of why I picked that particular tavern, an unconscious understanding of its internal atmosphere. A handy trick.

I walked through the main streets, keeping my head on a swivel, and looking for a particularly dingy side alley to walk down—which didn't take long to find. I soon stood in front of a clearly well used alleyway facing into the south west quadrant of Crossroad. To put it in blunt terms, it looked downright scary. If I weren't a literally Demigod, I knew that my mind would be racing with the numerous ways that I could die when I turned the next corner. Now though, I was almost amused by the slight mortal panic still residing in my gut and took a step forward, letting the darkness of the side street overwhelm the brightly coloured and lit establishments to its left and right.

My eyes adjusted to the almost pitch black in an instant, letting me wonder forth through the veritable maze of buildings. If you every wanted to experience urban hell in action, apparently Crossroad was the place to do it. The buildings were old, and newer additions had clearly been built up rather than out. My guess would be that everyone wanted to be as close to the inner city as possibly, unless you are abandoning the idea altogether and going to live out in the houses that actually have a front yard outside of the direct reach of the city.

I kept my eyes wide open as I casually walked through its labyrinthian walls, seeing absolutely no one and nothing but also knowing very well that they lurked behind every corner. Who 'they' were was a more difficult question to answer, to be truthful with you. But from their mental state alone, I could tell they weren't the nice locals, hoping to give you directions to make sure you got to your accommodation on time.

I travelled forth through the inherently boobytrapped maze, skirting by every little encounter and illuding quite a few watchful eyes. It felt good, I'll be honest. It felt powerful to use my powers of empathy and general senses to so thoroughly trump the predators that sat around the corners of the increasingly slum-like district, trumped in so far as they never even got a chance to fight me.

The convoluted passageways that comprised the districts closer to the main roads were nothing in comparison to the torturous paths of the not so nice districts. The buildings loomed overhead, most without much of a window to speak or, likely because any window would simply face directly into another across the street. I could feel the minds of the people within, families too scared of the night and the predators lurking within to dare let their presence known. Some even had senses good enough to see me in the darkness, even though my steps were almost entirely silent against the thoroughly tarnished from years, or even generations of use without so much as a single cursory wash. Now that I think about it, didn't most people deal with their waste by throwing it from their window into the streets?

Suddenly every small pile of detritus, that likely could have been anything, caught my eye—my brain hellbent on walking around them, staying as far away from what could be actual human shit. Or non-human shit too, I guess. We're inclusive here. The stench of the streets had been something I'd experienced on the main streets, and it only threatened to ger more pungent the further I pushed through. Thankfully, from being exposed to the truly most vile smells that the human body could produce after being slaughtered by Rethi's blade for months, I was pretty well desensitized to sour smells in general.

'What was I looking for?', you might hesitate to ask. Though the answer was as simple as could be. A location of promise. My directionless walking through the ever-branching paths of the slums—their looming threat to keep me within their walls forever—finally produced a location that I would consider promising.

There was a tiny little nature strip—a solitary spot of green in the hell of grey, brown, and red stone. I suspected that it was a piece of history, left behind from when this area of the city was actually nice—or at least tried to be. Now, the both overgrown and slowly dying greenery had every building's back turned to it. I wouldn't even be remotely surprised if those who lived in those buildings—as dour as their emotional states were—didn't even know it existed, the only entrance to it being an obscure and abandoned path. If I hadn't seen the strange street out of the corner of my eye and chose to duck through the narrow and confining sheltered walkway—clearly crafted to service people at least a foot shorter than myself.

There was a little stone bench, one that sat flush against a wall that was just the back of a building. I sat down on that bench, finding it to be surprisingly clean in comparison to the grimy and gritty surface that I had expected. I made a quick adjustment to my pocket, making sure that just a glimmer of coin was visible in my pocket, the pouch I had filled with various coins filled to the brim and almost overflowing with mostly 'worthless' coins—in comparison to our sudden net worth, anyways.

Then I simply sat, giving my surroundings one last cursory glance before I closed my eyes and crossed my legs on the comfortably wide bench—placing my large and still surprisingly callous-less hands on my wiry thighs.

The nature that still existed here was beautiful amongst the sad surroundings. Most of it was undoubtedly weeds of various strains, and it was probably why the little area was dying after so many years of neglect, the grass and small collection of flowers no contest to the nutrient depriving weeds that menaced them. There was one solitary tree, one that had clearly lived here long before the city had been built, at least before it had become what it was today. Its old and wizened bark, a noticeably lighter than the stone that perpetually surrounded it, gave way to its soothing light purple leaves. The only reason that the tree was still alive was probably because the sun was always directly upwards, shining its light through even the most dilapidated alleyways. As a side note; the only reason residents of Virsdis still used the typical measures of time here—like midday—was because it was a hold over form Orisis, and was probably way easier than reinventing the wheel.

Of course, the world had continued to move along even in my contemplation of this small slice of it. To be truthful with you, the amount of time I had been sitting there was more than I'd have liked—but such was the patience of a fisherman. I was no fool and was increasingly finding myself to be far more powerful that I'd thought, just in general. The little town I had lived in was so much less complicated than even a single—almost abandoned—alleyway in this city, and my powers were drinking it in with reckless glee.

As soon as I had walked in this alley, I knew that there was a person sitting atop the roof—far above the looming walls. I had also taken a good, long look into their emotional state and determined a few things. They weren't a bad person, but they would rob me. They would feel bad when they went home that night, after buying food for their small family and I could somehow intuit that—if they stole any amount of money from me—my face would forever be impressed in their memory as a snapshot of the one person's wallet who changed their life. It was the clearest emotional state in the range of a few streets by a wide margin—though still paling in comparison to the sheer strength that Rethi and Mayer were capable of exerting through their emotions alone.

I waited patiently until the form on the roof noticed me, and then the almost twenty minutes that they took to decide to rob me. As they crawled down the wall, their body pressed flat against the messy stonework, I kept almost entirely still. I could feel the calm fear that coursed through the person's veins—far too experienced to let true fear and anxiety run its course, a deadly mistake in a game like this. Though, even now, they know that their target is far more dangerous than any they had tried before—something deep inside of them knowing that they were walking right into a trap, even if desperation pushed it to the furthest reaches of their mind.

I felt as the person crept up right behind me, their form mere centimetres from mine as they hung on the wall without slipping at all. I could feel their hand reach towards my pocket, my senses brightening slightly with the faint pulling sensation of the monstrous purse's weight leaving my possession. I could feel the mental state of the person, their mind alight with any movement I made—which was the total absence of any. I had come a long way in my physical self-discipline since those early days of me trying to amend my terrible posture.

I let the purse leave my pocket and felt the person's guilty eyes glance over my 'sleeping' face before retreating up the wall, just as carefully as they had come. Of course, as soon as their attention left me, my eyes snapped open and my body flooded with movement. Let me tell you; when you have enough physical strength, so much that it easily dwarfed your own bodyweight by at minimum of ten times in the most disadvantageous positions—with at least passable skill in a complicated movement structure that is inherently linked to kinetic shifting—you can truly pull off some physics defying stunts.

If course, I had never practiced this particular movement—yet with less than a thought, my body danced up the side of the building, conjoining, and whispering the words of movement and motion, pushing me body upwards with a silent vertical speed. The world whirled as my feet—wearing a light and flexible shoe I had come to prefer—gripped against the wall, my toes instinctively finding the cracks and cervices to pull my body forward with the blinding speed I wouldn't have thought would be remotely possible on a sheer vertical surface like this.

The wall I danced up was out of the line of sight of the thief, their careful ascent up their own wall focused on not making sound, rather than speed. Though as I had silently made my way up to the roof, finding myself looking at a strangely beautiful view of the city, I walked over to the roof of the building that they were still climbing up. I positioned myself a few metres from the wall, waiting amusedly as the padded reptilian hand finally made an appearance—pulling the rest of their cloth clad body over the precipice. They laid there, staring up at the night sky for a while, just breathing quietly as the adrenalin seeped from their system, giving way to a beautiful relief that I was honestly loath to destroy.

"You're quite good at that, you know?" The thief's mental state jolted into an immediate, terrified panic—though on the surface the thief barely moved, their eyes slowly shifting over to where I stood on the open rooftop, my only backdrop that of the night sky itself—the building being tall even amongst its peers.

"Aw, fuck." An anxious voice jittered out. It was the same almost shrill voice that the Gehne had possessed, and even more feminine than that. It was a distinctly older voice—though not elderly by any means, just older than the much younger waitress'. I smiled gently at the woman's sprawled form, her wiry muscle underneath the patterned light brown skin that peaked through the gaps in the cloth wrap.

"Don't worry. You aren't in any trouble." The suspiciousness only rose further, becoming a wild fear—the brutal emotion burning across her brain.

"Oh fuck, you're a Shadow Walker—shit, please Gods, don't kill me!" Well, I can't say that I had heard the title before—though I could only assume that it was an assassin of sorts, with a name like that.

"I could try to assure you that I wasn't a 'Shadow Walker'—whatever they may be—but I have the distinct impression that you wouldn't be interested much in hearing it." I could already sense that from their emotional state, so it was hardly a surprise when the effectively prostrating woman didn't move an inch.

"P-please, I can give the money back! I only need my life." I raised an eyebrow at the begging Gek. I had almost expected more weeping and theatrics—at least that's what I would have assumed from the trashiest of media back on Earth, the criminal or evildoer shamelessly begging for their life. But even as the woman literally begged, there was a little spark of pride within here. That sort of pride you had in yourself when you play an imaginary scenario in your head over and over, one where you don't look the other way when someone is being bullied or attacked—one where you step in and selfishly make yourself the hero in your mind. The pride that you had when the situation you'd repeated in your mind a hundred times happened right in front of you and—despite maybe a little dithering—you held true to that ideal version of yourself.

Right now, even as she prostrated herself in front of what she believed to be a shadow-walker—a subject of her mind holding no small amount of terror—she took pride in the fact that she hadn't dissolved like a puddle at my feet. Aside from a healthy amount of nerves when threatened with what to her embodied death incarnate, of course.

I walked towards the woman, slowly reaching down to pick up the pouch of mostly iron hum—taking care to not spook the woman as I lifted the pouch from where she had thrown it to the ground in her fear. I looked at the practically quivering woman and—while sometimes it didn't feel like it—I realised that she was probably quite a few years older than my measly early twenties. The night hadn't gone exactly to plan, and I had hoped to get quite a bit more accomplished—yet somehow, I was satisfied despite myself. Maybe just one last act then, shall we?

I reached into the pouch gently, ignoring the iron coins and instead reaching for a singular silver hum. The kind of money that could only really be spent on real estate and in Gram's Apothecary back in that little town of mine—but was a much smaller amount of money here. I crouched down, only a few metres apart from the woman, and I placed the single hexagonal silver coin on the ground between us. The Reptilia's eyes flicked towards my hand and the coin, then up towards my face.

"Come here, tomorrow night. I hope that you feed your family like royalty with that money, until then." I smile widely, giving the woman a reciprocal edge to my sudden charity. When I turned and danced away through the air, my movements guiding my body from the building in a massive leap, I could only feel one residual emotional state—mired in confusion and a tearing anxiety as it accepted the money in front of them.

It wasn't much, but it was something.


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 63: An Awkward Morning

My journey back to the Skinned Lizard fast, as the rooftops were all relatively easy to run across. Most of the rooftops were completely flat, likely in the case they needed to be built upon in the name of expandability.

I had made sure to take some time to rest for the day, wasting the hours away on a particularly nice stretch of field just to the southeast of Crossroads. Despite their being homesteads nearby, though clearly on the poorer end of the spectrum, I wasn't confronted by anyone while I performed kata after kata. Though, I guess who would dare to confront someone wielding a hammer as large as mine, lighting up the darkness with Divine energy coursing through the rune-work on the weapon.

As I approached the Skinned Lizard's door, after parkouring over a good portion of the urban landscape, I idly wondered what my Might stat would be now. As much as I had loathed that screen, it was at least useful in having something to compare myself against. Now I was left without, and my hammer wasn't a constant—only growing heavier as I got stronger—so that was no metric I could use.

I walked into the tavern, not really expecting to see anyone at this hour, but lo there was one person amidst the empty tables.

"Good morning, Gehne. I hope you had a fine night?" I said, trying to keep any pretence of my little show last night out of my voice. The woman turned to me, having known I was here before the door opened with one sense or another.

"Yes," she responded, smiling as best she could, but it felt wooden and unsure, "I slept well last night. How about yourself, Master Max?" Two things I realised in that short stretch of words. One; she was lying terribly about sleeping—she hadn't slept at all and she was even feeling ill because of it. Two; she was trying to be… polite? No, courteous. In much the same way that Rethi had tried to be before Mayer took the reins and taught him properly. It had been interesting to watch Mayer do so; the man being so far removed from polite political titling and mannerisms that it was surprising how much he knew. Now Rethi would be considered average in political etiquette, but I had stopped him from him flexing the majority of the politeness muscles on me.

I looked at the Gek woman with another lens, finding that while she didn't know exactly what I was, she knew I was at least powerful. That was enough to try her best to not piss me off. She stood at an unnaturally straight angle, much like how I bet I had looked when I was first trying to straighten my posture many months ago. She kept any mannerisms she could to a minimum, making her eyes dance around me rather than look me in the face.

"I'm sorry," I began, giving the woman a shock, "I didn't intend to make you so uncomfortable last night. I was honestly just excited to be anywhere than a little road town and I got a little ahead of myself." The shorter, blue skinned Reptilia shifted from foot to foot, her emotional state screaming with just how uncomfortable she felt being apologised to.

"That is okay, Master Max. I just did not expect someone of your–" she stopped herself, her blue skinned throat bobbing slightly, "I would have expected you to be in far nicer lodgings than here." I looked Gehne pensively for a moment, but I stopped when I realised that I was making her more nervous.

"When does breakfast begin?" I asked, looking outside the sash windows at the brightening sky. The windows were likely an expensive instalment, most buildings on the outer areas having other things in place of glass. Gehne was put off by the sudden question but answered anyway.

"An hour or so, Master Max." I cringed lightly at the gratuitous use of the title and name but led myself to a table just beside the woman and motioned for her to sit. She did, with no shortage of hesitance. I held my hand across the table, making eye contact as best as I could with her large, separated eyes.

"Maximilian Avenforth, adventurer, faithful to the Hearth, and reluctant warrior." I said with a smile. We both knew I was downplaying myself, but it was ignored out of politeness. She timidly took my hand in her own, the strange biology of her fingers gripping against my skin in an almost magnetic way.

"Just Gehne, Reptilia rarely have last names." She quickly pulled her hand back from mine, the odd ridges of her fingers straining against my skin for a moment before releasing. "Waitress? I don't have much else, Master Avenforth." She ended timidly, the title eliciting a light chuckle from me—even if there was a little exasperation in it.

"Just Max is fine, Gehne. My companion only calls me 'Master Max' because he's stubborn and also because it annoys me." I gave her a soft smile that she tried to return, though she still doubted I was telling the truth. "You asked me why I came to the Skinned Lizard over anywhere else?" She nodded.

"Well, it's pretty simple, all things considered. As a faithful of the Hearth Court, I'm given a little bit of a feeling about places. Their safety, how welcoming the people are, and so on." Her emotions seemed to indicate a light disbelief, but she wasn't sure. Crossroads might be a trade mecca, but I hadn't seen a church of any kind yet. "So, when I was walking the streets it became clear that the residents and workers of Crossroads dislike travellers. When I walked past the Skinned Lizard and felt that it was welcoming?" I shrugged, the rest of my answer I had already stated within earshot of the woman the night before.

"Even still, we cannot provide the comfort and services other inns could, Master– Max." I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a faithful to the Hearth if I didn't gravitate towards the warmest fire." The small fireplace in the corner of the room, despite being reduced to the silent remains of a fire, glowed with a warmth like it had the night before. An agreement it seems. Either that was my own connection to the domain reacting positively, or it was the other Hearth Gods flexing their own. The Gek woman in front of me noticed instantly but only snorted in amusement.

"Does that happen every time you talk about this stuff?" She said, letting the uncomfortable etiquette drop with some difficulty. I grinned.

"Well, it has been happening more often recently. Apparently, the Hearth Gods are a little partial to me." Unknowingly, we both waited for something else to happen, turning a sly eye towards the fireplace. We laughed it off, but I could feel the little echo of amusement through my domain, the link to my more Divine kin.

"Do you follow a God, or Court yourself?" I asked curiously. It wasn't a question I had ever really bothered to ask—most of the people I had interacted with were hardly a devoutly religious sort, or if they were, they kept it private. Maybe Mayer and the Sun Gods, especially as he wielded Hindle.

"Not, really, no. Some Gek still worship their tribe's God, but I don't know my tribe so…" She tapered off, thinking for a moment. "I think most people worship Gods that are relevant to their situation. Like a farmer praying to the Harvest Gods come harvest time, but other Gods when it isn't. It's usually worship on an individual basis, so I'm not sure that many around here have dedicated themselves to the robe like yourself." I raised an eyebrow in amusement. Apparently, I was a priest of the Hearth now. Fair enough, it'd do as a cover and it would help me explain away some Divine stuff. I have to admit, I had expected a little more in the way of religiousness, but maybe I was just asking the wrong person.

"Less monotheism certainly makes sense, with their being so many differing Courts. I had expected there to be at least a church."

"Well, there are some congregations, but Crossroads is a trade city, most of the residents barely staying for a few years before moving north or west." She shrugged nonchalantly. Oh well, my dreams of learning more about religions—or even meeting another Hearth 'faithful'—dashed, I let myself just enjoy the woman's company for a while. That was, until the first of the customers began to trickle down from upstairs and the smells of cooking begun to waft from the joining kitchen. Shortly after that we said a temporary farewell, leaving me to walk up the stairs to wake the teenagers from their slumber.

I was already happy with the meagre progress I'd made for the day, managing to put the waitress I'd worried to ease. I had an appointment with the other Gek woman late in the night, but the day had barely started so that wouldn't be for a while yet.

I walked up the steps and making a beeline towards our little line of three rooms, only one of which was being actively used. I knocked on the door that I could feel both Rethi and Alena's emotional presences behind, quickly noticing a particular emotion that immediately made me focus my senses anywhere but inside the room. Even if it did light up in my mind like a Christmas tree.

It took a few minutes for the knock to be answered by the door opening, Alena's black hair greeting me from underneath my nose.

"Good morning!" She said with a layer of false cheer. I looked briefly into the room, seeing Rethi hastily putting on the rest of his clothes, his figure being remarkably built from all the physical training. I turned my gaze back to Alena a pleasant smile that was just as false as her cheer on my face.

"Breakfast, be down in ten." And I left to go reserve a table. Not that there was going to be a shortage of them, but more that I really didn't want to her the whispers from their mental states right now.

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, Rethi and Alena made an appearance. Alena looked as well put together as anyone could look in travelling clothes, neat and tidy with her shoulder length, black hair pulled back into a practical bun. Rethi, however, looked as messy as he always did. To be fair, most of it was his unruly blonde hair which he'd let grow down to his jawline. With the addition of his green eyes, he would look far more at home with a surfboard under his arm than he would with a sword.

They sat opposite me in silence, letting Gehne come and go without order, then Tenra—the young Tiliquan man from the day before—came back with our food, only stopping for a quick greeting. We ate in silence, all the while the couple's anxiety slowly rose, clearly worried of what I had heard or sensed. In most cases this would have just been an amusing afterthought, something to poke fun at the teenagers with and then totally forget it even happened by the time the day was through. But as I sat there in silence, slowly munching on warm bread that had a savory paste spread on it, a sudden lightning bolt of panic hit me.

When the meal was done, I gently cleared my throat, "So, I assume that we all know that bringing a new child into the world while we are on the road would be a very poor life decision, yes?" The two teenagers simultaneously choked on air, Rethi just placing his face in his hands as his ears glowed a vibrant red. Alena's face was just as bad, but she desperately tried to not let it show in her expression.

"You, uh, don't need to worry about that." Alena said, trying to keep her voice as stable at possible through the massive wave of embarrassment that I probably could have felt from blocks away. Underneath it all, though, she was entirely sure that she was telling the truth.

"Good, but still be careful." I said, nodding before standing from my seat without asking why she was sure. Something that I would leave to the absolute recesses of my imagination. I motioned for the two teens to follow, giving a brief nod to Gehne and Tenra as we left the building for the day.

We walked the streets in an awkward silence. Is this what parents felt like when they approached their kids about the birds and the bees? I slowly let the topic fall from my mind as we explored the main streets, we hadn't quite explored fully the day before. We had seen the majority of the south and western streets, with only a cursory glance at the east and effectively nothing of the north.

When we finally got around to the north, the east being almost the same as the western road, we all quickly realised that we had left the best for last. Basically, every store was some description of lavish—so much so that the custom of listing prices and price ranges had gone out of the window with any expectation that you would go home with anything left in your wallet. We took our time looking in window after window, all of which were full pane in comparison to the multiple of most other stores. Then we came across a particularly interesting store.

Not interesting in that I was overly enthused by it, or Rethi as well for that matter. But Alena's eyes lit up like she was the Divine warrior of the Sun and not Rethi. Of course, the inside of the store was a showcase of about thirty different styles of clothes, the mannequins always in a pair of two—male and female, dressed in matching clothing sets. I saw Alena's eyes wander over them and then snap to Rethi, who was trying his best to seem totally oblivious.

With an evil grin to the young man, I walked towards the glass inlayed door of Oscar's Boutique and Tailory. Hearing an older, flamboyant voice call out from the back of the storefront as the elegant bell chimed.

"Well, hello there! Here to find your astonishing selves inside some of my cloth, are you?" Rethi tried to groan, but his girlfriend's predatory grin made him stifle it and sigh, resigning himself to his new reality as we entered the store.


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 64: Coincidence

As it turns out, Oscar—an exceptionally flamboyant tailor who is quite particular about his appearance, despite his age—was an excellent source of information, even if much of it was drama.

I had mostly walked into the Tailory out of necessity, lacking any actually nice clothes to use if I needed them, but also in a daring act of kamikaze by action, catching Rethi in the radius of the blast with every intention of making him suffer under his girlfriend's enthusiasm.

But despite my general lack of interest for fashion and clothing, Oscar was a man whose pure enthusiasm and shameless compliments could overshadow just about any task, no matter how daunting. Rethi and Alena were quickly outfitted in in matching clothing sets, each as formal and luxurious as the last, but in so many different styles that you'd swear they'd never end.

Some were formal attires clearly created to be as 'high class' as possible, complete with frills and layer upon layer of cloth, the sheer impracticality of the dresses had stopped Alena from even considering the dresses, even if she really wanted to try one on. Other attires were more like flowing robes, almost reminiscent of religious robes, others were airy and baggy, similar to what might be used in extremely hot or humid climates.

But even as I was being measured and fitted with a suit that was shaping up to be the most expensive thing I've ever bought, what was even more invaluable was Oscar's experience and knowledge of Virsdis.

Mayer and Alena, while both having been outside that little road town, had most of their knowledge hamstrung. Mayer just wasn't actually interested in the ever-shifting countries and territories of Virsdis, any information he had was either old or just unreliable. Alena was the same, along with her father. They got themselves to Virsdis to run away, and in doing so they just travelled from small town to small town, never truly taking account of any specific location because they had always lived in a road town equivalent.

But Oscar was different. As the highly perfumed man took quick measurements by eye and by a thin measuring tape, he was all too happy to let golden information spill from his lips like nectar to my mind. First of all, I had asked about churches, and was met with a similar reply to what I'd received from Gehne. However, he did talk more about the cities and territories to the east and north.

Towards the north was the first city within the territory of the Brauhm Empire—and though it'd be considered a 'fringe' city, money runs through that place like nothing else, apparently. To the east is a city that is much more like Crossroads but is more residential and focuses on exporting goods from their mines, and 'live goods' like slaves to anyone willing to buy them. Crossroads, while hardly a moral city, doesn't deal with slaves or slave traders as a rule—mostly because that eastern city, named Vahla, had so many social issues because of it that it'd be downright foolish to copy them.

Though it didn't seem to stop Crossroads from letting people go through their city to go and buy slaves and bring them back through Crossroads on the way back. Too easy to earn money off of, I suppose.

Apparently in the Brauhm Empire religion—specifically their Sun God Brauhm—is all the rage, and much of their civil strife is over religious disputes. Why that didn't leak into Crossroads, I didn't know, but apparently between the string of materials and goods producing cities further to the east and some to the west, the sheer capitalism had attracted the least faithful out into Crossroads. Though it seemed that the Tiliquan tribes to the west were difficult trade partners, making it difficult to move things through their territory despite the power of the cities they were sandwiched between.

There was more information about the next closest territory to the south, which perked my ears, but when I asked how far away it was, Oscar shrugged the padded shoulders of his suit jacket emphatically. He came out with an estimate of about three or four times the travel that we'd done to get to Crossroads in the first place, much of that travel being through a long strip of desert. Oscar did note that he rarely saw travellers come from that direction, most being merchants that would sell 'exotic wares' to unknowing townsfolk of the road towns to escape the oppression there.

That kingdom, Veringohs, had their own trade and supply routes that didn't require them to travel weeks through desert to get to the Brauhm Empire and the trade cities that benefitted from their demand.

I kept asking questions until my brain was exploding with more and more fringe political cases that Oscar begun to have difficulty in answering. He was knowledgeable and got a few commissions from Vahla, the cities further east from there, and that fringe city, Urnwyre. But aside from telling me the names of his clients, which he I could already tell was a no go, he couldn't tell me the exact political reasoning behind why Vahla was going through Crossroads and not straight into the Brauhm Empire, other than maybe the Empire only protected the road between Crossroads and Urnwyre.

With all that, I was given a lot to think about—and while the tailor would have been happy to entertain my questions all day long, the two teenagers had quite enough of my rambling.

Soon enough Alena took the reins from me, outlining her ideas with surprising clarity. The tailor was happy to get to work immediately, so while I walked out of the store with a brand-new suit, almost reminiscent of a modern cut from back on Earth. It was a suit I would have expected out of the 1900s, at least. It wasn't uber formal, not like what Alena apparently had in mind, but it was a warm, dark brown colour with a white dress shirt hiding beneath a lightly lighter brown vest, complete with a fanciful fold in the fabric to add an extra layer of class.

Sure enough, the suit was amazing and, while it had been repurposed from a suit that had already been made, Oscar had managed to work his magic to where I would have easily thought it was made exactly for me. The price, which I paid up front, was still ludicrous—but a suit as nice as this, handmade in an age where suits of this exact type weren't common or mass producible.

In fact, the suit that this had been edited from was an 'experimental' piece that Oscar had made as a—and I quote; "bit of fun in my off time, over a few glasses."

I didn't know much about the evolution of male fashion, but I did know that pre-1800s male fashion was horrendous, and much of the examples in this store was closer to that, than a suit. I made sure to compliment the suit to Oscar extra hard, adding in a word or two about the thing being a 'masterpiece of the future'. I don't know if the modern suit will take the world by storm like it did on Earth, but if anyone deserved to be the person to have invented it, Oscar was he.

The suit didn't have a tie, so I asked Oscar to make one for me when he had the spare time, asking for a simple pattern with a colour fitting with the rest of the attire, and with that I was off towards a shoemaker that Oscar recommended.

Before I knew it, the day was over, and my getup was mostly complete, sans the tie of course. The shoes I had got my hands on were clearly not the modern leather shoe that I was used to, but they were remarkably close—despite most of the upper-class male shoes effectively being high heels.

They were a simple light brown affair with laces and everything. And while the design on them was a little audacious—something I would easily have turned my nose up at back on Earth—there was something fun and mischievous about the design that felt at least a little fitting.

I walked the streets in my new suit, getting more than a few eyes glancing my way; either the eye of the higher-class men and women that roamed the streets, looking for ways to waste their money—or the eye from within the shadowy streets, looking for an opportunity to rob me.

I took a peek within Oscars store, the silver haired man—his gently powdered face filled with a rapturous glee—fussed over the work in progress design with Alena, as Rethi turned his green eyes to me and glared, half a plea for help and half hateful gaze.

I pointed through the widow with a wide grin, covering my own mouth with a comical depiction of laughter, before flicking my fingers at the boy pompously and walking off, leaving the boy to his fate. I had another matter to attend to for the day, even if I had spent far too much of it putting together an outfit, of all things. I'm sure Mayer would loathe to know that I've been using his money on a fancy suit and shoes.

I quickly made my way back to the Skinned Lizard, dropping in to grab my long, black cloak. It was a nice cloak, something that Mayer had made clear was a good financial decision almost regardless of the situation. Thankfully, it looked good enough as it sat over the suit jacket, thoroughly protecting my new, fancy clothing from any environmental damage it might encounter. I struggled for a while, wondering if I should change back into the clothing I had been wearing for weeks, but I was too excited about my new suit to care—I may as well use it to make an impression.

I was gone from the Skinned Lizard as fast as I had entered, not giving Gehne and Tenra the time to approach me about my sudden change in dress between serving tables. I was out and about in the shadowy streets of the south-west corner only a moment later, intentionally choosing the least populated side street and then easily danced up the walls to the roof. At least one person had seen me do so, but I was covered by the cloak so my getup wouldn't be immediately recognisable.

From there I casually made my way along the rooves, spying a shadowy form or two doing the same as night well and truly made itself at home over Crossroads. I took my time, patrolling the rooftops out of interest for those that lived below and within the buildings I strode atop.

Their emotional states almost all included at least some element of depression, desperation being the only thing keeping them going through it. I don't know what it was that so many people did in a city like this, being so commercial and all. I could only assume that they worked in sweatshops and warehouses, and if they didn't, then they were probably forced to steal from those who did. The southern part of Crossroads was grimy in a way that the northern parts weren't, not as much anyways. Oscar had said that most of the richer people lived outside the city, and those that were wealthy either lived in their own stores, above the storefront, or in the first layer or two of apartments behind that. The north-eastern and north-western quadrants of the city were mostly safe, the north-western being where the police were set up, just a row back from the stores.

The whole city was a total mess of garbage city planning. I would go so far as bet that Crossroads never intended to be anything more than a shitty traveller stop before Urnwyre, and by extension the Brauhm Empire, took interest in trading with other cities already nearby.

I finally meandered my way over to where I had met the Gek woman the day before. I didn't bother to drop down into the little green nature spot, as nice as it would have been to relax in there for a time. I walked over to a chimney that protruded from the flat roof I stood upon and sat on the lip of its square brick shape. There wasn't any danger of it being used, seeing as it had been blocked up with bricks only a short way down where it would once have run.

"Are we having a good night there?" I asked to cool air, amusement running thick in my voice. Just nearby I could feel the presence of the Gek woman, hanging from the underside of a balcony a little further down, trying to stake me out. Her emotions shuddered for a moment before she resigned to her fate and climbed to the roof as well.

As she stood from hanging onto the wall, I shrugged my arms out of the heavy cloak, letting it rest on my shoulders letting the cloak fall apart to reveal the suit underneath. I could feel a spike of general anxiety from the woman, but I ignored it for the moment. She likely thought that I was high-class of some description, which was about as wrong as it could be. No matter what I did, she was going to be scared of me to some degree.

"It's a nice suit, isn't it?" I said, flashing the inside of the jacket, the satin-y material on the inside shimmering in the low light that still managed to make it to Virsdis through whatever physics black magic. The woman didn't respond, only reaching into a pocket somewhere within her cloak and cloth wrapped form. She pulled out the single bronze hexagonal coin I had given her, throwing it to the ground between us and letting it eventually fall flat after a moment of it dancing on the stone surface.

"I don't need it." She said finally, after I pointedly ignored the coin.

"And I do?" I asked sarcastically, presenting my getup dramatically with a wave of both hands down my form. I could probably do with a haircut and shave to really seal the deal, but I like the light juxtaposition of nice clothes and unruly hair. She didn't answer me, so I delved into her emotions as I looked deeply at her eyes.

Ah.

"No, I am not trying to buy you. Slavery is abhorrent and I won't have a part in it." I said sternly, trying to keep the offence out of my voice. She stiffened, her mouth opening in a slightly aggressive way I hadn't seen from a Reptilia so far.

"Then what do you want from me…" She trailed off, searching for a name.

"Maximilian. And what I want is pretty simple. I've only begun learning what goes on in the light here, but what goes on in the shadows stays wholly a mystery for me. I've begun learning about the Brauhm Empire and Crossroads' link with Urnwyre, the likely massive amount of trade that goes through Crossroads from Vahla and the cities close to them," I felt a slight twitch of disgust as I brought up the eastern city, "but all of that information is only so helpful. The goings on in the shadows? Now, that could give me a better idea of what is going on in Crossroads, would it not?"

The silence remained, the Gek woman—whose name still illuded me—hadn't budged from her intense distrust of me. I don't know what a Shadow Walker is here, but to her I imagine that still remained the most likely option. A Shadow Walker that showed up in a suit was probably even more dangerous.

Maybe it was time to bring a tool out of the toolbox that I hadn't used in a while.

"Are you a religious woman, Miss…?" I probed for her name, but she ignored it.

"Kaliha, the Quiet Fire. She was the God of my tribe." She said with a soft passion, almost daring me to sneer at her. I had never heard of the God before, obviously, but there was a sudden and immediate resonance between the name and my domain. The Divine energy within me sung with a familiar resonance.

"Ah, what a coincidence." I said, a true smile finding itself on my face. I lurched up from my spot on the defunct chimney and gently bent to pick the discarded coin from the floor, holding it up so that both of us could see it.

"I, Maximilian—as a faithful of the Hearth—call upon the Whispering Ember, Kaliha, to officiate a peace between two who wish to see no blood. Do you answer?" I felt the words flow from my lips as if it were entirely natural, the energy burning in my eyes first, then coursing down my skin and into the small hexagonal coin, the bronze metal glowing with its new endowment of power. A Divine Pact.

"She has answered, now do you?" I asked solemnly, extending my long arm out towards her, the coin resting in front of her as it glowed with warmth. When the Gek woman reached out and took the coin from my fingers—all hesitancy gone to an unbridled awe—the warmth flooded into her padded fingers, coursing over her body and, for just a moment, made her dark eyes glow like a warm campfire.

"I welcome you, friend, to the hearth I can provide." She nodded as the ceremonial words left my lips, as instinctual is it was for her to then bow gracefully in thanks. When she stood, staring me in the eyes, she faltered for a moment—the unexpected ritual ceremony of Kaliha throwing her off. So she stammered out the words she could.

"What now?"


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 65: Lauka

The bar was… well, unwelcoming. To say the least.

It was hidden away in the south-west sector, the path to it being obscure and almost impossible to find organically. But I did ask for a quiet place to talk, so I guess I was getting what I wanted. The people inside were largely Reptilia, easily ninety-five percent or more. Though it didn't hold the same atmosphere that the Skinned Lizard made use of, clearly being a highly exclusionary establishment, one where everyone knew everyone.

The humans that were inside stood out like a sore thumb, clearly only here for something ancillary to the actual bar itself, like I was. The majority were placed opposite a Reptilia wearing a similar getup to my own Gek guide, face coverings and sometimes less strict body coverings. It became clear quite quickly what the purpose of this place was.

I was led to a small table in the very corner of the establishment, one that has walls erected around the table for whatever privacy you could get within a place like this. Though I had no doubt it was just fanfare for the humans that are brought here, something to make them feel as if their dirty little secrets aren't being listened in on. Of course they were, I had no doubt that it was a selling point of the bar, to listen to what was going on in the less than savoury world within Crossroads.

"So, a professional criminal then?" I said as I sat myself in the chair, letting my cloak drape over my shoulders once again, a look that was starting to grow on me. It felt powerful, socially anyways.

"You have to do what you can to get by here." She replied stoically, though some of it was fanfare for those that were listening in on our little conversation. I hummed to myself thoughtfully as I extended my aura of safety, a tool that I used passively much of the time. If I focused on the ability, though, I could enforce a soft sense of security. Many were overlooking our conversation due to their worry for my friend across the table. I assume that 'high-rollers' like myself rarely, if ever, came down to muddy their pristine skin with this sort of environment.

"That's fair enough." I said, nonchalance bleeding for my words. As my aura extended, the tense atmosphere slowly quietened before almost becoming calm. The ears listening in on our conversation dropped to nothing more than listening to the mumbling murmur of our voices, no interest in picking up specifics.

"There we are, had to make sure no-one was listening in too hard there." I said, letting a smile warm my face. We were totally obscured from the rest of the bar, so I let my back slump into the fairly decent wooden chair before regarding the woman opposite me.

"What?" She said, her voice low but still natural, keeping the strain out of her voice in fear that it'd alert the Reptilia at the tables around us.

"Don't worry about it too hard. As long as you aren't going to yell, nobody will be taking specific notice to our conversation for the night. The perks of being close to the Hearth Court." The dark orbs of her eyes locked onto my face, examining my expression, and letting her mind whir through what had happened over the past thirty minutes.

"Fine. Do you want to explain why you knew the greeting ritual for Kaliha? The formal one?" Her words stayed at their natural tone, but her emotions were anything but neutrality. It was a mess of quite a few emotions, all ties to each other intrinsically. It wasn't something that I could unravel at first glance.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't meant as an offence. The truthful answer is that I didn't know the greeting ritual. I simply asked toward the Court of Hearth and they responded." I shrugged, keeping it intentionally vague and only really supplying her with a gentle smile. It was a smile I had cultivated to the point where I could almost wear it permanently and never sway from it, an incredibly useful expression.

"You just asked a whole Court of Gods and they responded? I'd more likely believe that you're a God yourself." She said bitterly, the venom in her voice dulled by the hilarity of her coming so close to the literal truth. I chuckled restrainedly, careful to keep the large belly laugh within.

"Ah well, I am a priest of sorts—faithful to the whole Court, rather than just one." She sneered quietly, her lips staying unmoved but her strange skin pulling itself into an intimidating mask.

"A priest? Bullshit. My mother was a priest of Kaliha from childhood, and she wasn't even capable of doing anything more than a greeting, let alone something on the level of a true Divine Pact. I know that Kaliha was only worshipped by the Gek tribes to the far east, and a formal greeting was never given to a human, nor ever translated into the common language. How do you know it?" She threatened softly, her eyes cold and piercing. There was a lot of hurt buried underneath her words, and me giving her this formal religious greeting trawled up this slew of horrible emotions—underpinned by surprise.

"I know it because they know it. Because they thought that I was worthy to hear it, and that you were important enough to receive the greeting. Maybe it'll sound a bit up myself, but the Hearth Gods are quite invested in me—so obviously they think that you are a worthy investment of my and, by extension, their time." I sat with one leg crossed over the other, the pant leg of my suit pants riding up ever so slightly, just enough to show a tasteful amount of the sock I wore beneath.

"Hah, as if the Gods ever cared so much about anyone." She said, bitterly. Though I could tell that she knew she was being unreasonable, bitterness to be bitter.

"Maybe so." I agreed easily, "I'll be honest, I only ever have been following the Hearth Court. I know next to nothing about other religions and other Gods. As nice as I may look now," I gestured to the suit, "would you believe that I came from a small road town? That I didn't even know that Crossroads or any of the surrounding kingdoms, cities and empires even existed until just today?" She didn't narrow her eyes, which I only just realised was a physical limitation of having no eyelids, but the woman certainly felt more suspicious in her emotional state.

"A road town? To the east or south?" I nodded in the southerly direction, and she sat back in her chair, a little flabbergasted.

"What the hell did you do right? Did you sell your ass out to a rich man and does he have any interest in a woman?" I choked down a laugh, before it forced its way out my nose, destroying any guise of coolness I had going.

"Oh no, I think he'd be quite unhappy if I were to open up the relationship like that." I said with a smirk—unable to think of anything but the outrageously funny disappointment that would be marring Mayer's face right about now. Or he'd find it funny as hell, soldier humour and all. The Gek woman did her best not to laugh with me but failed just as amazingly as I had. What was meant to be a scathing remark had somehow turned out to be the best ice breaker I could have possibly dreamed of.

"Maximilian Avenforth, or just Max." I said, reaching out a hand in greeting. With only a little hesitation, the Gek woman grabbed the hand gently and shook it.

"Lauka." She said after a moment, hesitance loud and clear in the word. As far as I could tell, that was her real name. I'd half expected to receive a made-up mess of a name, something that would have shown up in my empathy brightly.

"So, Lauka. Crossroads seems like a place that is desperately trying to look like there is absolutely nothing wrong going on under the covers. What do you think about that?" I asked sarcastically. I would have mimed a microphone, as if I were a reporter, but that'd probably only be confusing in a world without a televised news and microphones.

"It is an absolute nest for villainy." She said, snorting amusedly, "If I could, I'd have moved into the Brauhm Empire the first chance I got. At least there are less gangs there."

"Can't go because you're Reptilia?" She nodded with exasperation.

"They still think that most Reptilia, especially ones from the west, are the religious and warring type. Not that some of them aren't, but the ones willing to move out of their tribes? Not likely to be the type."

"So you're stuck here with your family?" There was a moment of great caution before she nodded, "Is there a better option other than the Brauhm Empire or Vahla to the east?"

"Nope, unless you're willing to make the trip south to Veringohs, which I hear have a relatively high Reptilia population. But so many people die trying to make that trip, unless you have the money to hire people that actually know their way around the place and others that can kill the really nasty beasties in the desert. Other than that, this shithole is the best you can do for yourself."

I let myself sigh, my shoulders slumping ever so slightly. It didn't seem like anywhere here was all that nice a place to be. Crossroads had an unknown degree of corruption—at least enough for professional thieves being used by higher class citizens; Brauhm was religious and racist, which already made them sound extremely appealing; Vahla was probably selling slaves to the Brauhm Empire, and any further out than that couldn't be much better.

"So what about here, then? What goes on in the shadows and who are the hands that pull the strings?" Lauka grimaced, the skin of her cheeks pulling taut in the best approximation of the expression as was allowed on her reptilian features. I wonder if they had to learn those expressions, or if they were natural.

"Well, if I wasn't under your assurance that no-one is listening, I would be very worried that a little lizard will crawl their way back to one of those hands." Her voice was a warning tone, though it still didn't seem like too taboo a topic—probably something that got asked often enough that it wouldn't light up on any radars. Not yet anyway.

"That's quite alright. I'm a big boy and can handle it. Plus, I am paying you handsomely for the information." She looked about ready to argue before her hand made its way into the folds of the cloth wrapped around her body, likely to feel at the single bronze coin.

"You might need to pay more for me to be willing to spill the sort of information that'll get me killed, but general information I can give you." I waved my hand nonchalantly, letting her dictate the exact limits of the deal was an easy enough concession from me. Honestly, I was hardly fussed either way—though her continuing to feed me information would only serve to be more and more lucrative to her. Always reward loyalty.

"So," she began, her voice much quieter even with the lack of listening ears, "The big players in town are three. You have the 'officials', which are really just the oppression department of the 'law'. They mostly just police trade, but they are super corrupt. They let anything from drugs to slaves slip through if they are paid enough, taking a huge cut on the imported and exported goods. Most of the trade goes straight through Crossroads, so that's where all the wealth comes form in the first place." She pointed a thumb towards the north-eastern quarter, where the police station was set up. If I remember correctly, there was also an administrative building nearby.

"Second are the deep pockets that are all holed up in the northern sectors. Most of them have estates further out of the city towards the Brauhm Empire, but they basically have private soldiers all day and all night. Unless you have a death wish, no-one is getting in those places—though people certainly try. I think I have heard of maybe three that have actually gotten in and out without being killed, and one of them is probably lying. Either way, they are usually the big wigs that run the trade that makes its way through Crossroads, worth hundreds of silver hum a month. Many them are 'procurers' of specialist merchandise. Which is to say exotic slaves, usually.

"Thirdly, we have the gangs, which there are really only two. Humans work under 'totally-not-a-sellout' Haedar Kout, who is almost certainly a sellout. They do all kinds of scary shit, but mostly taking people down to the back alley and making them shift to nowhere." I rose my eyebrow at the odd euphemism.

"It means–" She began, thinking I didn't get it.

"Yes, they kill people for hire. I'm assuming that this is to do with the officials that get too righteous or the storekeeper that got their hands on a little too much information?" She shrugged.

"Or a guard that fucked a trader's daughter. Or just a guy someone hates. Anyone for the right price, and at least Reptilia are worth more because we're harder to kill."

"I'm assuming the other gang is Reptilia?" Lauka rolled her eyes gratuitously. Or maybe that was just how it looked when Gekkota rolled their eyes. I'd have to check with Genhe.

"He's a genius folks, get him a pint." I pushed up an imaginary set of glasses, which remarkably seemed to translate, managing to get a small laugh out of the woman.

"I assume you are with them, then?" She stiffened a little, before she just shrugged defeatedly after a moment. She didn't really feel any need to hide it before me, seeing as I could almost care less. I knew almost nothing about her circumstances, but I strongly doubted that they were ones that lent themselves to honest success in the light of day.

"Yeah, basically. Though I try not to take jobs through them anymore, because they are just about as fucked as the human slicks. Though, the leader of the gang just goes by Shed, and he is absolutely not a sellout. Don't fuck with him unless you want one of the only guys that can get in and out of the most secure houses we know of." I tilted my head in thought. I was looking at jumping into a very dangerous game of Texas Hold'em, though the stakes for me were remarkably low, all things considered.

"I'll make a note of it. Though I will warn you, I am finding myself more and more interested about this darker flipside to the first city that I find myself in after Gods know how long in that little town." I smiled charmingly, which made the woman visibly cringe with the understanding that I couldn't be dissuaded.

"Though, I do have to ask; is that Shed person a 'Shadow Walker', as you called me?" Lauka went stiff, this time there was large disturbance in her emotional state, forcing her to swallow a nervous deluge of saliva that suddenly made its way into her wide mouth.

"No, he is not. They come from anywhere, at any time. We think they are professional assassins, but we know nothing else. Please don't bring them up or they will kill you, then they'll kill me. And I really don't want to die tonight."


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 66: Another Day

Lauka took my money and left shortly after that, though I was planning to offer her a tip, but she raced off before I could dramatically dig around in my pockets for more.

I sat around within the hideaway pub for a little while, relishing the atmosphere of just another sort of hearth. While it wasn't a welcoming one, it certainly had its own warmth to it, a secretive fire for conspirators to gather around and discuss just another plan. I didn't stick around for too long, and when I left, I gave the bartender—a hardened looking, green Tiliquan—a fair tip, along with subtle eye contact that told him just how… unappreciated the selling of my whereabouts would be.

After that I just roamed the rooftops, not feeling the need to practice the Sharah for the night. While it would have felt productive to do so, there is really only so much practicing you can do before it begins to lose its calming touch. So, instead of succumbing to the habitual need to perform the Sharah ad nauseam, I walked the city and spoke it instead.

I created sentences that described the graceful walking of a cat, slinking across a tightrope—the minimal flaps of a bird's wing in full flight. Just a few days ago, I had scaled a wall with almost no effort, just speaking the words of ascension.

Now, I tried to understand just how well I could move, in the context of the urban landscape. And understand I did. I had only really practiced the lengths of the Sharah in the fields near Mayer's little home, now I was scaling buildings with little more effort than it would take me to fly across a flat plane—the pure efficiency of the Sharah's movements, along with the inherent shifting that came along with it and micromanagement of my kinetic energy allowed me to pull stunts that clearly defied gravity.

It was a fun distraction, really. I didn't particularly need the practice to do these stunts, being capable of speaking the Sharah so naturally all the time. It gave me the time to think about some more aspects of my power in general.

It seemed that I was more powerful within a place of hearth, socially at least. Maybe it was obvious to state, but with how my powers were really just handed to me by Gallar, I really knew almost nothing about them. Other than I had a domain, divine power, and was now even more immortal than I was as a Champion, I was left with almost nothing to work with. Divine Pacts were a total surprise, though Gram didn't seem surprised enough to make a big deal out of it. Being able to call on religious greetings without knowing them first?

So, as the sun was once again uncovered by Orisis, I made my way back to the Skinned Lizard, entering without much fanfare and making my way up to my room. I left my suit and shoes to rest for the day, returning to my regular traveller's clothing.

As I entered the dining floor once again, I found it mostly empty, aside from a handful of patrons. Sure, it was a little early in the morning, but I guess it was just a slow day for the Skinned Lizard. I couldn't see either Gehne or Tenra on staff, which meant there must be someone else on staff—seeing as the few patrons here were served.

I sat at one of the tables, content to wait for Rethi and Alena to come down in their own time. But as I waited, it wasn't long before a large man emerged from the door leading into the kitchen. The man, massive by Tiliquan standards, stood at a mighty six foot—his broad shoulders and muscled torso hardly hidden by the light shirt he wore. His scales were a mundane brown with a smattering of a darker brown. Though, what really stood out was the line of damaged, dusky scales tracing from his snout to down below his shirt-line.

"Welcome." He said, his voice a gentle growl that might scare if I couldn't see that he was doing his best to dampen his naturally terrifying voice. Though, when he took another look at me, I could see a small smile build on the wide-mouthed Reptilia. His voice was accented, a heavier tone mixed in with the rest of his speech, an effect not too dissimilar to the African accent.

"You're the guest that has Gehne and Tenra so riled up, aren't you?" He questioned even as he pulled out a seat and delicately sat in the chair that somehow refrained from groaning underneath his weight.

"I'm so talked about already, am I?" I asked, despite knowing full well that Tenra probably couldn't keep his excitable mouth shut to save his life. The Tiliquan's eyes glimmered with amusement, though he restrained himself from laughing.

"You could say that. Though I have to say, it isn't often that I catch Gehne as concerned as I did the night before last." While he was still relatively jovial, there was a small amount of warning and apprehension in his voice—though I guess that meant that Gehne had kept that little encounter to herself.

"A fault on my part, I assure you. Thankfully, I was able to clear it up with her not long afterwards." I felt a strange twist of emotions from the man, a slight surprise coming to the surface. He scrunched his brow heavily, making his already intimidating face even more severe.

"You… tried to court her?"

Well, I can't say that I expected that. I coughed gracefully with surprise, returning to the man with an awkward smile.

"Ah, no. I didn't try to court her." I paused for a moment, thinking whether it was appropriate to as my next words, but decided to go with it anyways, "Though, that isn't to say that she would be undeserving—as forward a statement as it might be." I grinned wryly at the war-like Tiliquan man as his face scrunched in a mixture of a few different emotions in small quantities.

"You find the Reptilia attractive? That is quite odd for your race, no?"

"Is it?" I asked thoughtfully, though the man just shrugged his wide shoulders, "I have only just met the Reptilia and understand little of the relations between them and the humans here. You might say that I'm an outsider in that sense." He brought up a clawed finger and tapped at his chin idly, a calculated calm regaining control over his emotional state. He was quite the man of emotional control, it seemed.

"I find you to be an enigma, guest." He said finally, though the words held no hostility, there was a decent amount of interest within them, "You appear one day within a Reptilian owned establishment, give good impressions to the employees and customers, enough that I heard about it. You both worry and interest Gehne, you come in with a suit worth more than most of what I own." He stopped, his eyes suddenly becoming as sharp as a blade, piercing straight into me—the slitted eyes narrowing ever further.

"Not to mention the whispers of a man dancing across rooftops within Shed's territory, the man in a strange suit making a stop at the Skink last night." I didn't react with my posture, an instinctive understanding washing over me. I just smiled gently, careful to not part my lips at the man.

I suffered under his gaze for a while, letting him stare at me as much as he wanted. I could see the expectation of my cracking underneath the hood of his calmed emotions, though when I didn't—there was a measure of pleasant surprise within him, almost akin to respect.

"Now," he continued, voice quieter still, "it's quite odd that a man walks into my little inn with a warrior's gait. Given all that information, of course." I quirked an eyebrow, genuine surprise making an appearance on my face.

"A warrior's gait? I wasn't aware that I had one."

"You have one, it is unmistakable. Your movements flow with a practiced ease that only comes from being a dancer or a warrior, and where I am from, there is very little difference." He spoke with such surety that I couldn't help but admire it. I settled on an amused shrug.

"I dabble, I must confess." The Tiliquan scoffed, sounding almost like a lion chuffing, though an even sharper sound. He squared me up with his eyes, something that Rethi and Mayer had done thousands of times.

"If you only dabble, you must think me a toddler." I looked over the muscled and clearly trained man—his physique head and shoulders above the rest of the naturally muscled Tiliquans.

"You're a warrior yourself, probably quite good at being one, I'd imagine." He snorted.

"Once." I rolled my eyes as I repeated the word back to the man silently.

"I know a man, a warrior, much older than both of us that would scoff at that." The Tiliquan grinned slyly but didn't elaborate.

"Maximilian Avenforth, or just Max." He nodded shortly in lieu of a handshake.

"Tek. I appreciate the shortening of your name, it sounds almost Tiliquan. Powerful."

"I suppose so. My name is good at being both formal and informal when I want it to be." Tek nodded sagely, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Many Tiliquan and Gek find our names to be a little lacking in the context of human names and last names. We had tribal names once, that served as a family name as you have—yet we have abandoned those, along with our tribes."

"Why not create a new one? Establish your own tribe within the city and use it to form a community of Reptilia, or at least Tiliquans." He stretched his neck from side to side, the light popping of his spine rung out as he thought.

"That seems easy, except that Shed will take it as an act of war. The Reptilia are afraid of Shed and his gang of fools, and it'd put too many people in danger to try that. The best we have at the moment is this little inn. Here its neutral territory, even Shed's strongest flunkies leave us be." I eyed the man.

"In no small part to you, I'd assume?" He chuckled but didn't bother answering. I wondered where this conversation was going. It started with the genuine interest, along with the accusation of basically telling me 'I know what you're doing', but apart from that, neither of us are budging. I decided to extend an olive branch, getting tired of waiting out the political talk.

"This politicking of yours seems very unlike the image you give off, Tek." I let the statement sit for a while, neither of us overtly reacting, "What is it that you want to know?" I asked finally. I felt the slight relief in the man, maybe a small worry that I'd get offended or try something stupid.

"I want to know what you're doing, riling up the gangs. A human frolicking around Shed's districts could be dangerous, for you and for Haedar Kout and his people. They don't know who you are yet, but they will soon, when the people I get info from finally end up leaking to someone other than me." I stared at him, though without any challenge in my eyes.

"And why would I care what Kout and Shed are up to?" I ask dangerously, though we both knew that it was really just a bluff sentence.

"Because if they find out who you are, they'll go after your people, and I don't know if the Skinned Lizard could protect them from that. If they really want you, of course." Well, I imagine that it'd be a bad day for someone who tried to go up against Rethi. Though, even if we'd been teaching Alena bits and pieces about fighting, she was still pretty weak in a confrontation. Though, if she was willing to, she could easily tear apart someone with a touch.

"Well, I guess I should let you in on the secret then." I grinned and the Tiliquan man, despite his general stoic body language, leaned in towards me as I teased the next sentence through my lips. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

The look on the Tiliquan's face was probably worth it.

"You aren't trying something?" He said, his voice low and dangerous—though it was more to hide his disbelief than to intimidate.

"Nope. In fact, I've only learned of the gangs last night, at the… Skink, you said?" Tek nodded curiously, "Before then we were only here for a few days, but I'm feeling like I could maybe get my hands into something here, if I wanted to. Of course, I could just pick up the bags and horses and be on my way, but that would be a little boring, wouldn't it?" I smiled smarmily, but the musclebound man almost didn't seem to notice my theatrics. He was staring down into the wooden table we sat around, his eyes searching for something in the grained wood.

"Tonight, after Orisis has hidden the sun for three hours, come into the kitchen and through to the back room." He said quietly, quietly enough for none of the very few patrons to hear. I nodded easily, feeling a little excitement as I realised I was being pulled into a conspiracy of sorts.

"I'll be bringing along my companions." I said simply, giving no room for argument. Tek pause for a second before shrugging slightly.

"If you feel they are trustworthy. I will bring out the last order you had for breakfast in a moment's time." I nodded, and let the man leave the table behind, disappearing back into the kitchen once more.

I sat alone at my table for a while, just thinking about the interesting turn of events for the day. Every day in this city seemed to progress me even further towards something else, a total difference to the massive spans of time where nothing happened in Mayer's road town. It was invigorating and endlessly exciting, truly making me wonder just what I could get myself into while I was here and, perhaps, what I could change.

"Master Max." Rethi spoke as he plopped himself down at the table, giving me a dry look. He hadn't escaped my attention as he had come down the stairs, but he had made his way over here fast.

"Enjoy your day with Oscar and Alena, Rethi?" I asked sarcastically, though the boy's expression was so dry it could start a drought in a rainforest. I could only laugh at the boy, letting myself drift into the beginning of yet another day in this city. Rethi snorted with heatless derision.

"I hate you." He mumbled under his breath, only forcing me to chuckle longer, and a little louder.


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 67: Meeting

The day had been a short one, as it tended to be when we spent most of it training.

Rethi and I were so accustomed to training that the hours easily flew away when we did so, though it was less so for Alena, who looked as if she'd been run over by a pair of horses. It was a necessary evil, however. Especially now that I Rethi and I didn't have to hold back on training her so she could travel for the day.

Alena was weak physically, not aided by her lack in stature in comparison to her boyfriend and I. She also had even less of an inclination towards hand-to-hand fighting than I did, which might be saying something. I had overcome my lack of innate 'talent' with sheer time investment, but Alena hardly had the same luxury as I did.

I decided that teaching her the full Sharah was a fool's errand, the amount of time before you'd see real payoff was just too great for it to be effective the way we needed it to. Instead, I broke it down into simplified movements, ones that would allow you to get the majority of movements down but leave you with many edge cases where instinct would have to fill in the gaps.

Rethi did the same with teaching her combat, being a much better teacher in the martial arts than I was. Thankfully, with our intense and strict training method, she advanced quickly. Within only six hours of training, she was capable of running from threats much better than before, and was even able to get in some cheap shots on an enemy if she absolutely had no choice.

Rethi's discontent with me had melted over the course of the day as he started to find the humour in it like I did. It was fun to joke and banter with Rethi, and despite his best efforts in staying 'professional', he wasn't capable of withholding his own barbed tongue.

But it wasn't long until the day was over, and evening was falling. Alena was tired and sore from the intensity of the training, and Rethi and I both knew that pushing her further would only serve as a form of torture. Though, I almost wanted to see if I could push her to the point where she'd consider using her life shifting on herself—a taboo topic as far as Alena was concerned.

"Alright!" I exclaimed to my two companions, standing in the rapidly darkening field just outside the south-western city limits. They turned to me with a raised eyebrow, the almost Pavlovian response to any of my theatrics.

"So, today I managed to get a little meeting set up with some... interesting folks." I grinned at the immediately warry expressions, "They may or may not be interested in upturning the political landscape of Crossroads." Alena groaned instantly, even before Rethi could fully process my words.

"Seriously, Max?" She said, her tone incredulous, "We're already going around and destabilizing cities because you feel like it? I know you're a Champion and stuff but come on." Rethi took a moment, but he nodded along with the sentiment. I shrugged lackadaisically in response.

"We have to start somewhere. If we decide to move towards the north, we get into the Brauhm Empire's politics, and if we go to the east we get slavedrivers and worse. This is the only place we have before it gets much hairier than what we could find here. Probably, anyways."

The couple chewed on that for a moment, and Alena was first to speak.

"Well, I can't really say that it doesn't make some sort of sense, but I can't do shadowy politicking when I'm like this." She gestured to the general state of her body, barely managing to stay upright with the quaking in her legs. I waved a hand in response, dismissing her informally.

"I don't really want to have you mixed up in this too much anyways. You're a healer and that should be your main focus. This is mine, for the moment. Rethi," I turned my gaze to the boy, "won't have much choice, however. This will probably be a mainstay of our lives from here on out."

Rethi and Alena shared a look, Rethi's a stalwart conviction and Alena's a quiet plea, but Alena gave in after only a few seconds with a sigh.

"Alright then," Rethi said, his voice the reliable and calm tone it usually was, "when do we meet?" I looked up at the sky and judged it at around five hours. With a quick trip to take his girlfriend back to the Skinned Lizard, Rethi returned and we began our own training to fill the time—interspersed with conversation.

Time ticked by quickly before it was time, and we were once again standing before the Skinned Lizard's doors, ready to enter this shadowy conversation that I may be overhyping in my mind, only a little. It only took a few purposeful strides for Rethi and I to enter the door, through the kitchen and into the back room that Tek had told me about.

"Welcome." Tek's deep voice rung out as Rethi and I walked into the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind us. Inside the room was warm and cosy—a small fire in the corner of the room crackled, spewing any smoke into a chimney that was built around it.

"Thank you for having us," I smiled, the expression coming easily to my face, "I didn't think that I warranted such a crowd." I looked around the room, my eyes touching the face of each person within. Tek sat at the opposite end of a fairly large, square table, his posture now unrestricted by the limitations of a service worker. His aura bled with trained might, not unlike Mayer when he wanted to be imposing. Sitting to his right was the blue skinned Gek, Gehne, and to his left was Tenra, the young Tiliquan who brought out the food.

However, there was another Gek sitting at the table. Brown skinned and clearly not the athletic sort, with as close to a paunch of fat as I think a Gek could really form, the small Gek's eyes darted between Rethi and I, dancing with interest and nervousness.

With a practiced grace, Rethi prepared a chair for me to sit in, and I followed along easily. Any show of power here would be a boon to my positioning in this conversation, though I did feel a small satisfaction in the sandy haired boy's mind—finally getting to use the manners he had been drilled on by Mayer.

"You're a new player in town, Max. Regardless of how long you stay." Tek responded, his expression and tone lacking any joviality. This was serious business, and I changed slightly to reflect that.

"And you'd rather I didn't go around poking anthills with reckless abandon?" Tenra snorted but was shut up when no-one else in the room laughed.

"Let me make some formal introductions," Tek said calmly, ignoring my question entirely, "I am Tek, once a warrior of a powerful Tiliquan tribe. Gehne," he nodded slightly to his right, "is from Vahla, escaping the Reptilia gangs and slavers there. Tenra is a young Tiliquan from one of the other Tiliquan tribes who I've taken under my care. Finally, that," he said with a note of distaste in his voice, "is Venn. Our information broker and the man we pay to not go to Shed with our information." The aforementioned Gek, totally unperturbed by the unflattering introduction, stood from his spot at the table and thrust his hand forth in greeting.

"If you need information, I have it or can get it. If you need something found, I can find it. I'm Venn, Crossroads' best info-dealer." He spoke with exuberance, much like a car salesman would to a prospective buyer. Of course, I could see underneath all his layers, and I could see the greed. I would have been rather unimpressed with Tek if he were all greed, because underneath even that greed there was a tiny part of him that was using that greed to justify him doing something good.

"I'll call on you if I need your services, which I may very well require after this." I spoke slowly and confidently to the little Gek, not letting his act overwhelm. With a firm shake of the man's hand, he returned to his seat quietly, fidgeting as he looked between myself and Tek.

"So," I said, breaking the ice, "what's your goal?" I didn't leave the conversation in the realm of unsurety for long, cutting right to the heart of it, letting the natural power that I assumed as Demigod of the Hearth guide me in the direction I wanted.

"Peace for those who run from war." Tek said simply, and I knew it was the truth. "Much of Crossroads' population is built off humans and Gek that have fled Vahla and the Brauhm Empire, and Tiliquans that have fled the western tribes. We want peace."

"Peace. It sounds so simple but is almost impossible." I said, tone serious but with a playful note hiding within.

"If it were so easy," Gehne said quietly, "we would have done it already. But we don't have the might to do so, or the resources that those who run it all do." Her tone wasn't abrasive, but it was far from the gentle tone that she held casually. It came from a different place, one of hurt and pain, of betrayal and callousness. The wash of emotions I felt as I dug deeper into Gehne's psyche was one of the times that I wished that I could simply turn my empathy off. But I couldn't, as it was the price for power.

"Indeed. So, you need a heavy hitter. Someone who can do what you can't. Though, I must say, I don't know the state of your current position in all of this. Care to illuminate?" My eyes glanced across the rest of the table, and I could tell that Rethi's eyes did so in synch.

"Our general state is poor. In all reality, we have the skills but not the means." Tek said calmly, though his eyes narrowed in thought, "We have a good information broker on our side, and a warrior in Tenra and I." He noticeably left out Gehne, which none of the other party overtly reacted to. Though, underneath I could see that her skillset was secretive, probably something that Gehne herself had told the others to not reveal. It didn't make it any less obvious to me.

"So, two men who can fight, a mystery woman, and a man who has his ear to the ground." I said, putting on my best unconvinced face. "You are playing a dangerous game here, Tek. I don't doubt your skills as a warrior, in fact you remind me of the man who taught me how to fight, but you obviously cannot hack-and-slash your way through this problem." The words cut deep, Tenra looking specifically wounded. He turned his face away from me, but I saw the grimace of pain on his scaly lips.

"Precisely. But we know a little about you." Tek began, his eyes widening and the slits of his cornea pulling tight, "You are a priest of the Hearth Court." I nodded, knowing that Gehne had likely told of our little interaction, or Tek had inferred a lot and was shooting in the dark.

"I am."

"Are you a Peace Bringer?" I tilted my head to the side, a confused smile on my lips. At my reaction, the man felt a little dismay in his chest, but I powered onwards.

"I do not know if I am or am not, until you tell me what a Peace Bringer is." The other Reptilia in the room clenched their powerful jaws, a mutual display of apprehension or even tentative hope.

"A Peace Bringer, they are Hearth God faithfuls, or Nature God sometimes. They are purveyors of conversation and discussion. They routinely involve themselves in kingdom and political business, usually to stop them from going to war, or to stop one from continuing." Even Tek looked a little hopeful, though I could see the dread in his gut growing as the moments of my non-reaction passed.

"Well, I've never done so myself." There was an instant sigh of disappointment. Even Gehne, who had been extraordinarily stoic this whole time, was now visibly dismayed. "But, I could certainly try my hand. I am somewhat gifted, in that sense."

"Somewhat gifted?" Tenra spat bitterly, the nice man who had talked to us after bringing us food was gone. What remained was a scared and wounded kid, desperate for anything that could right the wrongs of the world around him.

Rethi, however, was not having it. The boy, who stood to my right, took a step forward and leaned over the table ever so slightly. A slight golden glow surrounded him, like it had for Mayer at times, his face was that of a lazy worker in the midday sun, but it carried far more power than that. His eyes flashed at the spiteful Reptilia across from us.

"He was being humble." Rethi said quietly, his tone not so much a warning, but a declaration. The rest of the room gulped a little before I raised a hand and touched Rethi's shoulder.

"And he's being protective." I pulled the boy from his posturing and smiled warmly at the wary group. "I'll cut the bullshit. I'm good at this, and I'm in. What do we do now?"


A/N: A massive thanks to my three 10-dollar Patrons; Thomas H., TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my 20-dollar Patron Marisa E.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 68: Socialites

Apparently, fate had decided that I wasn't going to be able to stay out of my suit for long. It was my only piece of clothing that you'd even remotely consider 'high class', even if suits were relatively mundane back on Earth. Here, though, owning a proper suit as nice as my own was a massive social statement.

Not only was it about money, but it was also about the power it represented, especially with it being a stranger derivative of the formal dress of the day. It signified that I was willing to push boundaries, to defy what the status quo might be, but also not so much that I was willing to abandon it all together; that was a different social power altogether if you could use it right.

The talk with the small collective that comprised the staff of the Skinned Lizard was enlightening. Once we had got into the nuts and bolts of the social dynamics or Crossroads, things became far more interesting for me. Lauka knew a thing or two about the gangs, and I'm sure she understood their social webs better than Tek or I did, though the Gek informant, Venn, probably knew a fair amount himself. Screw paying him for it though, that would ruin half the fun of learning!

Tek knew far more about the social web of the upper class, or really the links between the officials and the people with deep enough pockets to pay them off to be as corrupt as they are. Of course, at the top of the officials there was a whole conglomerate of people lining their pockets with the proceeds that come from slavery.

Apparently, much of this information came from him just being a hired hand, lifting boxes and unpacking carriages, which he then moved into being hired by officials to help move boxes during inspections. Apparently, the sheer number of slaves he had seen common merchants bring through from Vahla had been astounding, most of them trying to do so without sweetening the deal for the officials. If they weren't being paid to be nice the officials, so concerned with the 'peace of Crossroads' were actually quite violent. Who would have guessed?

So, what was I up to? Simple, I was fishing.

Not in the traditional sense, of course. You don't go fishing in a nice suit unless you're a psychopath, but fishing in the social sense.

The crew had been remarkably unhelpful in telling me what I should do. Probably because none of them had even thought they would manage to 'convince' someone with any social prowess to join their scrappy band of revolutionaries. There were basically no plans because no plans were possible, but with me here plans were more than possible.

Hence, I sat in a nice bar in the northern most section of the city. I hadn't gone exploring in the wealthier districts prior to today, but it didn't take me long to find the spot I was looking for. My natural empathy was, unsurprisingly, extremely helpful in finding where I wanted to be, or rather who I wanted to be around.

I had scoured the main streets but most of the bars, even on the high end of things, were still catering towards travellers. Extraordinarily rich travellers, of course, but travellers nonetheless. Sure, there was likely a certain amount of political power that you'd have to own to be in places like that within Crossroads, and maybe even a few local faces would make short appearances there, but that seemed like looking for a saltwater fish in a lake.

Quickly I had resorted to calmly wandering the streets of the northern sectors, keeping my empathy feelers out. It had been a skill that I'd slowly gained proficiency in over time, especially as I very slowly got better at utilising ether and shifting. An hour or so later, I managed to find what I was looking for.

There was a specific set of emotions that defined a club with exclusivity. Snobbishness, sure. There was a lot of that around these parts, though. What really defined the exclusive club in this sort of area was the presence of openness. You have to understand, the pressure on the upper class was extremely high, having their positions constantly assailed from every direction; politically, financially, emotionally. Thus, if there is a public place that displays any degree of openness, then you're in the right spot.

And boy was I in the right spot. As I walked to the door of the establishment, a grand, hulking thing that had its own bulky doorman, I washed my empathy over the building gently and felt the distinctly young minds inside. A club for the youth of the rich and powerful.

"One moment, sir." The bulky doorman said, dressed in a well-made set of clothing, though purposefully a little dour in colour. "Do you have a recommendation from one of your peerage tonight?" I looked into the man's face with a critical eye.

"You doubt my station?" I asked simply. The man's eyebrow twitched, mostly because it was the fakest sounding answer you could give in a situation like this. The only thing stopping him from knocking me out was the flatness of my tone.

"Of course not, good sir. I simply have the confidence of your peers inside that I would keep those who wish to intrude out." The doorman spoke very carefully, his brow furrowing with concentration as he spoke. I could only imagine what bullshit some shitty kid has tried to pull with his father's influence. It only takes being burnt once for the overly polite and lawyerlike speech to make an appearance.

"Ah, I understand." The doorman, while entirely unchanged visually, let out an internal sigh of relief. "However, I'm afraid my father has organised meeting between me and a client. It would be very disrespectful of their time if I merely left now, would it not?" I asked gently, making the sigh quickly turn from relief to a groan.

"Sir, I can't let you in. Business is not facilitated inside of the Brightspark." There was no signage on the outside of the building, so the name was news to me. However, I changed tactics a little, giving the man a slight look of condescension. We both knew that business not being facilitated here was horseshit and I was calling him out on it. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighing with grace—when I opened my eyes again, I let my face go dead, using my eyes as a piercing weapon.

"I want you to listen very carefully to what I say next." I stated calmly, my voice staying at an even inside volume. There was a little jolt of panic in the man's mind, but it passed as I spread out my aura around me, subsuming the man into my domain. He nodded affirmatively, unsure at how he could feel threatened and safe at the same moment.

"My father," I placed as much 'subtle' emphasis on that word as possible, "set up a meeting with a client," just as much emphasis again, "so that I may provide them with services. It would be awfully bad if I were to miss this meeting."

It didn't take much of that sentence for realisation to dawn on the man's face. Of course, he had no idea what services I would be offering, or who my 'father' was, but the simple doorman wasn't being paid enough to deal with the backlash that came along with any of the implied possibilities.

Of course, I didn't know either, but he didn't have to know that.

"I see, sir." He said woodenly, before hesitating a moment. He had probably been ordered and been paid a lot of money to stand guard here, but not enough to risk life or limb for the job. "I will let you in, then,"

I nodded easily, as if the action was preordained instead of manufactured in the moment. The man didn't keep me waiting, opening the heavy door just enough to let myself and him through, and leading me towards the main room.

I say the main room because there was multiple, the main room having many people in it, all of them getting hopelessly wasted amongst their same age peers. However, I had higher aspirations than that.

I coughed gently, pulling the attention of the doorman who wanted as little to do with me as physically possible. As he looked at me, I pointed upwards towards the high roof above us both. A simple gesture for a simple request.

'Take me to the other rooms.'

I was taken up a few flights of stairs, each staircase leading to a new floor of wondrous architecture. Every floor was a slight improvement on the last, though the floor that I was aiming for was the fourth. Upon arriving up the last flight of stairs, the lavish fourth floor was a grand improvement on the second and third, filled with red carpets, astounding carvings in simple wooden supports, paintings, lanterns, and everything else that made a space as beautiful as this.

The doorman, now extremely uncomfortable even being here, nervously looked at me and towards the next flight of stairs, terrified that I might choose to go up even further. There was no doubt why, there were two more floors in which there were only a few handfuls of people, maximum. The very top floor only housed one person.

To go up would be truly setting foot in the extremely exclusive areas, the kind of place that you needed actual recognition to penetrate. Trying to get myself into the fifth floor would probably lead to there being a death warrant on my head.

"That'll be enough." I said simply, trying not to smile at the man's sudden relief. I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled three bronze hum, which was a sizeable enough tip for the doorman. After a mumbled pleasantry, he quickly made his way back down the stairs, possibly preparing to run for the hills if someone came back out looking for his head.

I didn't dally about from there, making a beeline down the warm and luxurious hallway and into the fourth floor's entertainment room. It goes to show just how exclusive this floor is, because as I opened the door and walked inside with a practiced grace, every set of eyes turned towards me.

Initially, the eyes were filled with a curiosity, looking for a familiar face, as most that come to this location are. So imagine the surprise when a man walks in, a face no one has seen before, in a suit that is odd and 'exotic', but with the ease and confidence of someone who belongs?

The room was full of truly luxuriant chairs, the main colour of the room being a warm red and the chairs following suit. Each of the room's inhabitants, somewhere around forty, were sitting in their own cliques—aside from a few who flittered easily from one group to the next. My presence in the room brought a whole new dynamic into play.

As soon as I sat in an open booth in the middle of the room, an area mostly barren due to the private and intimate nature of the venue, the quietest gossiping in the world began. Sometimes I forget just how powerful my powers were socially, being a mix of a natural empath and a literal Demigod of the Hearth, but now my powers shone as bright as they ever had.

Each word, or even gesture, made about me somehow reached my recognition. I didn't need to turn to look at the man in the corner who gave dangerous look at another man to his left, one far more trained in the sword than he is. I didn't need to listen hard to hear the whispers of the girls in the corner who were cross referencing social circles to see if anyone of their friends, or their friend's friends, knew of me. They didn't.

Another moment of attention was when I looked towards the bartender, a slightly larger but jovial looking man, and flicked my hand casually while making eye contact. It was a small and exceedingly general gesture, but one that had formed in this little club long ago, one that simply meant, 'Surprise me.'

It wasn't a shock that I knew the hand signal that the bar used, but it was enough to raise eyebrows, making me an even more interesting target. I could feel the eyes of the particularly keep socialites already training themselves on me, but I wanted to remove some of the more predatory attention. Attracting that sort of attention would only lead to a fight of some sort, and that would get me nowhere good.

As the bartender smoothly completed my drink, he walked over to my table with an air of dignity and quietly placed the drink on my table. It was a multicoloured mess of liquids within a very square glass. It looked thoroughly unappetising, but just as with the small gesture from earlier, my link to the Hearth fed me all sorts of interesting information. With a casual flick of my hand, I grabbed the long spoon from the arrangement of cutlery on the table and stirred quickly, but without hitting the sides of the glass.

While the mess of liquid quickly blended and slowly began to sparkle, I spoke to the bartender next to me with unguarded volume.

"A man of the Hearth, I see." I stated. The man rose an eyebrow, though the surprise inside his chest was unmistakable. He almost stammered but reigned in the surprise in much the same way as Tek would have.

"I was not aware that my faith was obvious, or common knowledge, sir." I shook my head with a mock dismay, lifting the still mixing drink and sipping from its swirling contents. The liquid fizzed gently inside of my mouth; the cacophony of tastes akin to a what an orchestra is for sound.

"How could it not be, when you serve Ehra's own cocktail?" I took another sip as I eyed the man to my side. He was surprised beyond belief and did the best he could to keep it in, but it was enough for the army of elite socialites within the room to see the emotion.

"You… know of Him?" He said, his tone hushed. I did and I didn't. To me Ehra, and even Lauka's Kaliha, were like much older siblings. As if I had heard about them and their exploits my entire life, being well into their adulthood by the time I was born, but enough to know their names and roughly who they are.

"I know, and am friends, with many." I replied, which was almost a boldfaced lie, if I didn't consider the entirety of the Hearth Court. The bartender took a shaky intake of breath, steeling himself to cross the boundaries that his station would allow.

"And he still lives on?" The man said, a note of hopefulness colouring his words. I took another sip before responding, tasting the change as the ingredients separated into its splotchy blend of colours. A thousand tastes in one drink, all depending on how hard you stirred it, or if you stir it at all. A drink inspired directly by a God himself.

"Why are you still in this little room, serving drinks to the not-quite-nobility of Crossroads, Fehlen?" My voice was filled with that power that always reared its head when the Hearth empowered my actions. Of course, I had the distinct feeling that Ehra was putting forth his own power at this moment.

"I– what?" The man said, dumbstruck. I had called him by his true name of course, whatever that name might, or might not mean. It was simply the name he was hiding under the guise of another.

"Ehra is alive, if slowly wasting away as his followers die and new ones lose their faith in a waning God. Maybe it's time that you do something about that." I turned an eye to the bartender and knew that it was glowing with its golden fire. The man gulped, pushing down the wave of emotion as he understood just what had happened to him in the most unlikely of places.

I didn't particularly like being used by a God I barely knew as a way to get a message across to one of his followers, and give them a quest to rejuvenate his following, but that God was a brother—however estranged—and as Fehlen stood beside my table, he came to his own conclusion. He bowed to me deeply, and then strode out of the room with a newfound purpose. The beginning of a lifelong devotion to Ehra, God of the Soothing Soul.

The room, understandably, was in utter shock. I doubt they'd seen so much emotion on the face of the bartender under any other circumstance. What it did do, however, was kill the interest of the small-time socialites—giving them the impression that I was way out of their league—and only leaving those who had no reason to think that they weren't in my league.

So, when a beautiful young lady approached me, I knew she was a cut above the others. With skin far darker than I'd ever seen on a person, most of the contours of her body clearly displayed instead by the reflection of the soft lighting, it only leant further to her mystique. Her dress, a much lighter purple, fit her well and the wide, white smile broke her powerfully featured face with genuine cheer.

She sat herself at the table without introduction, letting me know straight away that she has social power even in this room of the elite, which was either a bluff or was something she actually had. The inner confidence told me that the striking woman wasn't bluffing, though. Not even a little.

"I haven't seen you around town, nor do I know anyone who knows you. And I personally know almost everyone, for better or for worse." Her smile never faltered, even as her decisive words cut right to the heart of the issue. A woman after my own heart. She wasn't done, I could feel more words within her—ready to nail me to the cross—so I stirred my drink again, making the very last of it spin with far more speed than the much larger body of it ever had.

"So, either you managed to get an invitation from someone up there, or…" She pointed upwards towards the fifth floor and trailed off dramatically, letting her stark white eyes almost glow against the contrast of her skin. I lifted the cup to my mouth, quickly imbibing the last of the drink, and basking in the astounding mess of tastes that my brother had helped to inspire. She waited patiently for me to finish, so I decided to be courteous and cut right to the chase, just as she had done.

"Oh no, I conned my way in here, of course."


A/N: A massive thanks to my two 10-dollar Patrons; TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! And a gargantuan thanks to my two 20-dollar Patrons Marisa E. and Thomas H.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!

 

[Sarius]

Chapter 69: Fair Enough

The woman, skin far darker than the more common ebony of my world, leant back in the chair opposite me. She was taken aback that I'd admit to conning my way in here so easily, something that could very easily land me in a very dangerous bit of hot water. I looked mournfully down at my drink, the last of it already within my stomach, the afterglow of the taste still warming my mouth fantastically.

"And how would you have done that?" She asked, her voice exact and decisive. She idly pushed back an intruding section of her densely curled hair from her face, letting her piercing dark eyes lay into me.

"Oh, just some eluding to being from the darker parts of this little society, then a quick made-up story of how I'm required to meet someone within the Brightspark." She eyed me suspiciously, though curiousness won out. Thankfully, we were fairly isolated from the rest of the room's inhabitants, and no-one had good enough hearing to actually pull the words from our mouths or lipread.

"You posed as a criminal?" I nodded

"An assassin, most probably." The suspicion grew another notch, dampening the natural curiousness lingering in her chest, "Though, I would be a terrible assassin if I needed to convince the doorman to get into a building." I hummed thoughtfully before standing and walking over to the bar, walking behind it, and scanning my eyes across the various liquors and wide array of ingredients. Of course, I knew basically nothing about the alcohol here, and even less about the standard drinks. I'm not even sure if I'd easily be able to recreate the mainstay cocktails from Earth.

Regardless, I let my eyes wander over to the girl that still sat at my table and grinned, taking the brunt of her suspicion on my chin. I leant on the exceedingly clean bar top, pointing towards it with a raised eyebrow.

"Want anything?" I called, and the girl's suspicion only rose further. Granted, it wasn't like I was actively trying to reassure her that I wasn't an assassin. The more questioning she did about who I was, the more she thought about me at all, meaning I won no matter what. After a tense moment of internal struggle, she nodded, and I smiled.

Crouching behind the bar, I looked at the dazzling array of liquids and sighed.

"Ehra, you're going to have to do me a solid here. Favours for favours." I whispered to thin air, but I received a light response. It was hesitant, most likely because the God had used a fair deal of his own power to make contact with even me, despite my requisite Demigodhood. I rolled my eyes at the tentativeness of the God.

"If you don't, I'll go tell Oldest Brother." There was an immediate chatter of responses from my link to the Hearth, a large amount of the Gods who seemed to have nothing better to do were probably doing the equivalent to laughing at Erha. 'Oldest Brother' in this situation was Gallar, and I can't imagine that being tattled on to the Lord God of your Court was much different than tattling to a parent.

With as close to a begrudging sigh as could be expressed, Erha flooded me with a moment of inspiration. All of a sudden, I knew the names, heritages, histories, and even the parings for all these alcohols. It was by that inspiration and pure instinct that I pulled bottles and ingredients off of the low shelves, placing them all onto the table in a clear, sequenced order.

Within only moments I had two drinks sitting in front of me, the intense understanding leaving me just after I had completed them. The Soothing Soul could mean many things as a God, with the possibility to be part of almost any given Court depending on how that concept materialised. In the case of Erha, it was food and drink, the moment of pure bliss as you ate something that spoke to you on another level, separate from the material altogether.

I lifted the glasses the way I remembered to from Ehra's inspiration and walked myself back to the table. The entire room was surprised or intrigued. Most of them knew a thing or two about preparing alcohol, and many of them were good enough, or knowledgeable enough, that it the little show I'd put on had been impressive. It was close to the skill level of the bartender that they knew and were comfortable with, but that bartender was just a bartender in their eyes.

"Two drinks; one for the lady and one for myself." I smiled gently as I placed a smaller glass in front of her, a murky white colour close to the visual appearance of lemonade. It sparkled gently, roiling with what almost seemed like glitter on its inside as the various liquids inside interacted with each other. The drink, despite still being a cocktail, had almost no alcohol in it whatsoever.

My own drink was a darker, almost velvety colour, very reminiscent of cola with a more prominent red hue to it.

"Have you been a bartender long?" She asked, declining to drink, holding a quiet suspicion that I'd poisoned it despite mixing it in front of her, and everyone else's eyes.

"As long as I need to be. Drink from it, I swear you'll like it." I grinned as I took a swig from my own glass. From what I could remember of the inspiration, these were both commoner's drinks, just made with better things. As I sipped from my own, even with my neutral stance towards alcohol, it felt distinctively home-y. The woman across from me did the same, in the end, unable to hold out without looking rude or breaking the atmosphere she wanted to hold. Although she was the picture of being in control, natural empathy cut away the mask easily, allowing me to see behind the curtains on almost everyone's motives.

"Good, isn't it?" I said as she sipped the drink, a refreshing drink that many sailors make when they're coming to the last of their harder drink. She internally agreed with me, but the mask stayed on firmly.

"Refreshing," she stated dully before moving on, "but if you're here, you have goals. Whether that is the dirty business you pretended you were dealing, or something else entirely, I want to know. So tell me, man of mystery. Who are you?"

"Good question." I teased, talking a long sip of my drink while I dangled the continuation of my sentence in front of her nose, "and who might you be, so I can choose who I am?" I let my eyes dance with mirth as the woman in front of me let just a small crease of frustration appear around her nose.

"Valeri Ephars. Daughter of Jitah Ephars." Of course, the names meant nothing to me.

"Helpful." I intoned sarcastically as I gestured for her to go on. She scrunched her brow as I took another long sip.

"Powerful merchant." She said finally, almost embarrassed to have to break it down that way. I snorted gently after swallowing my drink.

"And you believe me the criminal?" She gave me a scandalised look, but I rolled my eyes, "Don't even try it, lady. You can bullshit yourselves and your friends into thinking your wealth is all squeaky clean." She wasn't an idiot, so she obviously knew, so she dropped the façade and rolled her own eyes.

"Doesn't mean you have to say it like that." I just grinned before taking another sip.

"You play a no-bullshit social game, young Valeri. It'd be good to be able to play the same game while someone else is your opponent." I shrugged. This little social game was fun, though I doubt I could pull the same strategy with many in this room other than Valeri. The man in the corner, the same one that had been ready to sic his combat-handy friend on me, he probably wouldn't take this conversation very well.

"You can't call me young," she said, a note of amusement in her voice, "I'm almost definitely older than you. At least by a few years." She was right, I was twenty now. At least I think I was, seeing as I'm not sure on the exact days and months since I've been here, so my birthday passed by without me even really realising. Valeri was probably close to her mid-twenties, though I could be wrong.

"I'm basically a priest, I get to act older and wiser. It comes with the field." A glimmer of interest managed to make it through her mask and into her eye.

"A religious man, hm? Is that how you got poor Fehlen to run out of the room like that?" I scoffed at her tone.

"Sure. He's probably pretty happy about it, to be fair. New lease on life and all." I swallowed another mouthful of the delicious drink, "But what interests you so much in faiths?" There was a small hesitation in her hand, a little undisguised quirk that she probably didn't even realise that she had.

"Many think that faith is somewhat uncouth amongst the higher class of Crossroads." It made sense, for churches to be built and funded, the rich had to be invested in the concept of it. If they weren't, then it stayed as its own underground congregation of believers.

"You are of a different mind?" I asked casually, but the woman shrugged.

"My father is of the same mind as everyone else, but I can't help but be allured by the concept." She said guardedly. Interestingly, she was going out on a big emotional limb here. While I'm sure that she was telling the truth, that faith was frowned upon in Crossroads, there were many who had their own personal relationships with faith. Those that followed the Hearth were more clear to me, setting them apart from everyone else easily, but another that follows your specific fail might be hard.

"Your mother?" I guessed, and feeling the metaphorical dart hit the bullseye. She didn't outwardly react but her gut twisted internally.

"Don't you worry your pretty head. I won't be telling anyone. We'll call it a confessional and keep it private." I winked at her over my glass, putting her at ease slightly.

"Are priests even allowed to drink?" She whipped back, tongue lashing with banter.

"I'd be a pretty sad excuse for a Hearth priest if I didn't drink." I responded with a grin, she scoffed but floated a searching question a moment later.

"What God?" A simple question that I don't imagine she got to ask very often.

"The Hearth Court."

"The whole Hearth Court?" She asked disbelievingly, and I just nodded as I enjoyed her reaction.

"The whole Hearth Court, yes." With a flourish of the hand, I grinned spectacularly. "I'm just that good."

"Surely they don't respond to that…" she looked at the shit eating grin emerging on my face and cupped her eyes with her hands, "Oh my God, so many questions."

I hummed thoughtfully as I looked around the lavish room, walls filled with paintings of wars and landscapes and anything in between. I'd certainly gone fishing in the right place, having caught this Valeri girl hook line and sinker, but now it was just a drag. Valeri was going to be touchy about her own personal faith and anything adjacent to it while here, under the pressure of anyone overhearing a personal conversation. She had a lot to lose inside this room, and I really didn't.

I placed my cup down, the last of it having been consumed. In a flourish of movements, I had learned from Rethi's manners training, I bowed pleasantly and offered my hand to the beautiful, dark skinned woman.

"Maybe you can ask me all the questions you want outside of this stuffy little room?" She rose an eyebrow, amusement mixed with suspicion as she flicked her gaze between my outstretched hand and my face.

"I don't even know your name, mystery man."

"Then that's the first question you can ask me, right as we leave this droll little get-together." I put on my best up-myself accent, somehow making the girl giggle despite herself. She rolled her eyes while she did a cost-benefit analysis within her head and came to the distinct conclusion that she didn't give a shit what it said and grabbed my hand in a powerful grip.

In only moments we had walked out of the door, away from the gawking crowd. The surprise of the audience erupted into whispers as we exited smoothly, the woman next to me finding that her heart was beating hard as she pushed herself far outside her own comfort zone.

"Well," I said jovially as we made our way down the stairs with quick steps, "that'll certainly have them talking for a while." Valerie made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan.

"God, my father is going to kill me." Though, if she were being honest with herself, her father would be unlikely to even care. I pushed away the sad set of emotions that brought up and continued the excited race towards the front door of the Brightspark.

We raced past pair of younger boys on the second floor who looked downright scandalized that someone of the higher floors would act in such a way, and as we burst out form the heavy wooden doors, we came face to face with a very nervous doorman.

"Good evening, sir!" He said, shaken by my sudden appearance, before his eyes fell on Valeri and widened further, "Ma'am!" I grinned pleasantly, and as I did, the man's face went from shock into a violent blush as his eyes darted between us. I placed a hand on Valeri's back, prompting her remarkably unfatigued form forwards into the labyrinthian streets of Crossroads.

It took a moment for the excitement to wear off and for both of our heads to clear, which is when I realised the conclusion that the doorman might have come to as I burst from the door with Valeri. I let out a bark of laughter with true, unadulterated mirth bubbling to the surface. Valeri's eyes turned on me with a note of shock, her gaze filled with all the questions she clearly wanted to asked me, but were pushed back in the sudden moment.

"Fair warning. I didn't specifically tell that doorman that I was an assassin, just doing some uncouth business, so you may or may not end up with a few rumours circling that you hired a male prostitute." The shocked look widened into one of pure mortification unlike I'd ever seen.

"By the way, the name is Maximilian Avenforth, priest of the Hearth Court and newly titled male prosti–" That earned me a slap across the face with a much more powerful blow that I had expected from the girl. Fair enough.

It was totally worth it though.


A/N: Thank you to my two 5-dollar Patrons; Bisque and Thaldor! A massive thanks to my two 10-dollar Patrons; TheBreaker, and Dyson C.! A gargantuan thanks to my two 20-dollar Patrons Marisa E. and Thomas H.!

If you want to support me, and receive up to 90 total chapters in advance, check out my Patreon!